lia 


THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 

GIFT  OF 

Kenneth  Macgowan 


Books  by  Lady  Gregory 


Translations  of  Irish  Epics  i    CUCHULAIN  OF  MUIRTHEMNE 
GODS  AND  FIGHTING  MEN 
SAINTS  AND  WONDERS 

Translations  tod  Folk  Lore/ 

POETS  AND  DREAMERS 
THE    KILTARTAN   HISTORY 

BOOK 
THE   KILTARTAN   WONDER 

BOOK 

Dramatic  WorJui  SEVEN  SHORT  PLAYS 

THE  IMAGE 

THE  KILTARTAN  MOLIERE 
IRISH  FOLK-HISTORY  PLAYS 


From  a  painting  by 
GERALD  F.  KELLY 


B  rncntri 


New  Comedies 


By 

Lady  Gregory 


The  Bogie  Men— The  Full  Moon— Goats 

Darner's  Gold — McDonough's 

Wife 


G.  P.  Putnam's  Sons 

New  York  and  London 
fmicfcerbocfter   prese 
1913 


COPYRIGHT  1913 

BY 

LADY  GREGORY 

These  plays  have  been  copyrighted  and  published  simultaneously  in  the 
United  States  and  Great  Britain. 

All  rights  reserved,  including  that  of  translation  into  foreign  languages. 

All  acting  rights,  both  professional  and  amateur,  are  reserved,  in  the  United 
States,  Great  Britain,  and  all  countries  of  the  Qopyright  Union,  by  the  author. 
Performances  forbidden  and  right  of  representation  reserved. 

Application  for  the  right  of  performing  these  plays  or  reading  them  in  public 
should  be  made  to  Samuel  French,  28  West  3&th  Street,  New  York  City,  or  26 
Southampton  Street,  Strand,  London. 


Vbc  Knickerbocker  PTCM,  tte»  s«r» 


TO    THE    RT.    HON.     W.    F.    BAILEY 
COUNSELLOR,  PEACEMAKER,  FRIEND 

ABBEY   THEATRE,  1913. 


Library 

TR 

4-1 2-^ 
G.S-A13 

1913 


CONTENTS 

PAGE 

THE  BOGIE  MEN i 

THE  FULL  MOON          .         .        .        .        .  25 

COATS 65 

DAMER'S  GOLD 89 

McDoNouGH's  WIFE 133 

NOTES i55 


THE  BOGIE  MEN 


PERSONS 

Taig  O'Harragha    )      .     .     .     BOTH  CHIMNEY 
Darby  Melody         I      .     .     .         SWEEPS 


THE  BOGIE  MEN 

Scene:  A  Shed  near  where  a  coach  stops.  Darby 
comes  in.  Has  a  tin  can  of  water  in  one 
hand,  a  sweep's  bag  and  brush  in  the  other. 
He  lays  down  bag  on  an  empty  box  and  puts 
can  on  the  floor.  Is  taking  a  showy  suit  of 
clothes  out  of  bag  and  admiring  them  and 
is  about  to  put  them  on  when  he  hears  some 
one  coming  and  hurriedly  puts  them  back 
into  the  bag. 

Taig:    (At  door.}    God  save  all  here! 

Darby:  God  save  you.  A  sweep  is  it?  (Sus- 
piciously.} What  brought  you  following  me? 

Taig:  Why  would  n't  I  be  a  sweep  as  good  as 
yourself? 

Darby:  It  is  not  one  of  my  own  trade  I  came 
looking  to  meet  with.  It  is  a  shelter  I  was  search- 
ing out,  where  I  could  put  on  a  decent  appearance, 
rinsing  my  head  and  my  features  in  a  tin  can  of 
water. 

Taig:  Is  it  long  till  the  coach  will  be  passing 
by  the  cross-road  beyond? 

Darby:  Within  about  a  half  an  hour  they  were 
telling  me. 


4  The  Bogie  Men 

Taig:  There  does  be  much  people  travelling 
to  this  place? 

Darby:  I  suppose  there  might,  and  it  being  the 
high  road  from  the  town  of  Ennis. 

Taig:  It  should  be  in  this  town  you  follow 
your  trade? 

Darby:    It  is  not  in  the  towns  I  do  be. 

Taig:  There  's  nothing  but  the  towns,  since 
the  farmers  in  the  country  clear  out  their  own 
chimneys  with  a  bush  under  and  a  bush  overhead. 

Darby:    I  travel  only  gentlemen's  houses. 

Taig:  There  does  be  more  of  company  in  the 
streets  than  you  'd  find  on  the  bare  road. 

Darby:  It  is  n't  easy  get  company  for  a  person 
has  but  two  empty  hands. 

Taig:  Wealth  to  be  in  the  family  it  is  all  one 
nearly  with  having  a  grip  of  it  in  your  own  palm. 

Darby:    I  wish  to  the  Lord  it  was  the  one  thing. 

Taig:    You  to  know  what  I  know 

Darby:    What  is  it  that  you  know? 

Taig:  It  is  dealing  out  cards  through  the 
night  time  I  will  be  from  this  out,  and  making  bets 
on  racehorses  and  fighting-cocks  through  all  the 
hours  of  the  day. 

Darby:  I  would  sooner  to  be  sleeping  in  feathers 
and  to  do  no  hand's  turn  at  all,  day  or  night. 

Taig:  If  I  came  paddling  along  through  every 
place  this  day  and  the  road  hard  under  my  feet, 
it  is  likely  I  will  have  my  choice  way  leaving  it. 


The  Bogie  Men  5 

Darby:    How  is  that  now? 

Taig:  A  horse  maybe  and  a  car  or  two  horses, 
or  maybe  to  go  in  the  coach,  and  I  myself  sitting 
alongside  the  man  came  in  it. 

Darby:  Is  it  that  he  is  taking  you  into  his 
service? 

Taig:  Not  at  all!  And  I  being  of  his  own 
family  and  his  blood. 

Darby:    Of  his  blood  now? 

Taig:  A  relation  I  have,  that  is  full  up  of 
money  and  of  every  whole  thing. 

Darby:    A  relation? 

Taig:    A  first  cousin,  by  the  side  of  the  mother. 

Darby:  Well,  I  am  not  without  having  a  first 
cousin  of  my  own. 

Taig:  I  would  n't  think  he  'd  be  much.  To 
be  listening  to  my  mother  giving  out  a  report  of 
my  one's  ways,  you  would  maybe  believe  it  is  no 
empty  skin  of  a  man  he  is. 

Darby:  My  own  mother  was  not  without  giv- 
ing out  a  report  of  my  man's  ways. 

Taig:     Did  she  see  him? 

Darby:  She  did,  I  suppose,  or  the  thing 
was  near  him.  She  never  was  tired  talking  of 
him. 

Taig:  It  is  often  my  own  mother  would  have 
Dermot  pictured  to  myself. 

Darby:  It  is  often  the  likeness  of  Timothy  was 
laid  down  to  me  by  the  teaching  of  my  mother's 


6  The  Bogie  Men 

mouth,  since  I  was  able  to  walk  the  floor.  She 
thought  the  whole  world  of  him. 

Taig:  A  bright  scholar  she  laid  Dermot  down 
to  be.  A  good  doing  fellow  for  himself.  A  man 
would  be  well  able  to  go  up  to  his  promise. 

Darby:  That  is  the  same  account  used  to  be 
given  out  of  Timothy. 

Taig:  To  some  trade  of  merchandise  it  is 
likely  Dermot  was  reared.  A  good  living  man 
that  was  never  any  cost  on  his  mother. 

Darby:  To  own  an  estate  before  he  would  go 
far  in  age  Timothy  was  on  the  road. 

Taig:  To  have  the  handling  of  silks  and 
jewelleries  and  to  be  free  of  them,  and  of  suits 
and  the  making  of  suits,  that  is  the  way  with  the 
big  merchants  of  the  world. 

Darby:  It  is  letting  out  his  land  to  grass 
farmers  a  man  owning  acres  does  be  making  his 
profit. 

Taig:  A  queer  thing  you  to  be  the  way  you 
are,  and  he  to  be  an  upstanding  gentleman. 

Darby:  It  is  the  way  I  went  down ;  my  mother 
used  to  be  faulting  me  and  I  not  being  the  equal 
of  him.  Tormenting  and  picking  at  me  and 
shouting  me  on  the  road.  ' '  You  thraneen, ' '  she  'd 
say,  "you  little  trifle  of  a  son!  You  stumbling 
over  the  threshold  as  if  in  slumber,  and  Timothy 
being  as  swift  as  a  bee!" 

Taig:    So  my  own  mother  used  to  be  going  on 


The  Bogie  Men  7 

at  myself,  and  be  letting  out  shrieks  and  screeches. 
"What  now  would  your  cousin  Dermot  be 
saying?"  every  time  there  would  come  a  new 
rent  in  my  rags. 

Darby:  "  Little  he  'd  think  of  you, "  she  'd  say; 
"you  without  body  and  puny,  not  fit  to  lift  scraws 
from  off  the  field,  and  Timothy  bringing  in  profit 
to  his  mother's  hand,  and  earning  prizes  and 
rewards." 

Taig:  The  time  it  would  fail  me  to  follow  my 
book  or  to  say  off  my  A,B,  ab,  to  draw  Dermot 
down  on  me  she  would.  "Before  he  was  up  to 
your  age,"  she  would  lay  down,  "he  was  fitted  to 
say  off  Catechisms  and  to  read  newses.  You  have 
no  more  intellect  beside  him, "  she  'd  say,  "than  a 
chicken  has  its  head  yet  in  the  shell." 

Darby:  "Let  you  hold  up  the  same  as  Timothy, ' ' 
she  'd  give  out,  and  I  to  stoop  my  shoulders  the 
time  the  sun  would  prey  upon  my  head.  "He 
that  is  as  straight  and  as  clean  as  a  green  rush  on 
the  brink  of  the  bog." 

Taig:  "It  is  you  will  be  fit  but  to  blow  the 
bellows,"  my  mother  would  say,  "the  time 
Dermot  will  be  forging  gold."  I  let  on  the  book 
to  have  gone  astray  on  me  at  the  last.  Why 
would  I  go  crush  and  bruise  myself  under  a  weight 
of  learning,  and  there  being  one  in  the  family  well 
able  to  take  my  cost  and  my  support  whatever 
way  it  might  go?  Dermot  that  would  feel  my 


8  The  Bogie  Men 

keep  no  more  than  the  lake  would  feel  the  weight 
of  the  duck. 

Darby:  I  seen  no  use  to  be  going  sweating  after 
farmers,  striving  to  plough  or  to  scatter  seed,  when 
I  never  could  come  anear  Timothy  in  any  sort  of 
a  way,  and  he,  by  what  she  was  saying,  able  to 
thrash  out  a  rick  of  oats  in  the  day.  So  it  fell  out 
I  was  thrown  on  the  ways  of  the  world,  having  no 
skill  in  any  trade,  till  there  came  a  demand  for  me 
going  aloft  in  chimneys,  I  being  as  thin  as  a  needle 
and  shrunken  with  weakness  and  want  of  food. 

Taig:  I  got  my  living  for  a  while  by  miracle 
and  trafficking  in  rabbit  skins,  till  a  sweep  from 
Limerick  bound  me  to  himself  one  time  I  was 
skinned  with  the  winter.  Great  cruelty  he  gave 
me  till  I  ran  from  him  with  the  brush  and  the  bag, 
and  went  foraging  around  for  myself. 

Darby:  So  am  I  going  around  by  myself.  I 
never  had  a  comrade  lad. 

Taig:  My  mother  that  would  hit  me  a  crack  if 
I  made  free  with  any  of  the  chaps  of  the  village, 
saying  that  would  not  serve  me  with  Dermot,  that 
had  a  good  top-coat  and  was  brought  up  to  manners 
and  behaviour. 

Darby:  My  own  mother  that  drew  down 
Timothy  on  me  the  time  she  'd  catch  me  going 
with  the  lads  that  had  their  pleasure  out  of  the 
world,  slashing  tops  and  pebbles,  throwing  and 
going  on  with  games. 


The  Bogie  Men  9 

Taig:  I  took  my  own  way  after,  fitting  myself 
for  sports  and  funning,  against  the  time  the  rich 
man  would  stretch  out  his  hand.  Going  with 
wild  lads  and  poachers  I  was,  till  they  left  me 
carrying  their  snares  in  under  my  coat,  that  I 
was  lodged  for  three  months  in  the  gaol. 

Darby:  The  neighbours  had  it  against  me 
after,  I  not  being  friendly  when  we  were  small. 
The  most  time  I  am  going  the  road  it  is  a  lonesome 
shadow  I  cast  before  me. 

Taig:  (Looking  out  of  the  door.}  It  is  on  this 
day  I  will  be  making  acquaintance  with  himself. 
My  mother  that  sent  him  a  request  to  come  meet 
me  in  this  town  on  this  day,  it  being  the  first  of 
the  summer. 

Darby:  My  own  mother  that  did  no  less, 
telling  me  she  got  word  from  Timothy  he  would 
come  meet  here  with  myself.  It  is  certain  he  will 
bring  me  into  his  house,  she  having  wedded 
secondly  with  a  labouring  man  has  got  a  job  at 
Golden  Hill  in  Lancashire.  I  would  not  recognise 
him  beyond  any  other  one. 

Taig:  I  would  recognise  the  signs  of  a  big  man. 
I  wish  I  was  within  in  his  kitchen.  There  is  a 
pinch  of  hunger  within  in  my  heart. 

Darby:    So  there  is  within  in  myself. 

Taig:    Is  there  nothing  at  all  in  the  bag? 

Darby:    It  is  a  bit  of  a  salted  herring. 

Taig:    Why  would  n't  you  use  it? 


io  The  Bogie  Men 

Darby:  I  would  be  delicate  coming  before  him 
and  the  smell  of  it  to  be  on  me,  and  all  the  grand 
meats  will  be  at  his  table. 

Taig:  (Showing  a  bottle.)  The  full  of  a  pint 
I  have  of  porter,  that  fell  from  a  tinker's  car. 

Darby:  I  wonder  you  would  not  swallow  it 
down  for  to  keep  courage  in  your  mind. 

Taig:  It  is  what  I  am  thinking,  I  to  take  it 
fasting,  it  might  put  confusion  and  wildness  in  my 
head.  I  would  wish,  and  I  meeting  with  him,  my 
wits  to  be  of  the  one  clearness  with  his  own.  It 
is  not  long  to  be  waiting;  it  is  in  claret  I  will  be 
quenching  my  thirst  to-night,  or  in  punch! 

Darby:  (Looking  out.)  I  am  nearly  in  dread 
meeting  Timothy,  fearing  I  will  not  be  pleasing 
to  him,  and  I  not  acquainted  with  his  habits. 

Taig:  I  would  not  be  afeard,  and  Dermot  to 
come  sparkling  in,  and  seven  horses  in  his  coach. 

Darby:  What  way  can  I  come  before  him  at 
all?  I  would  be  better  pleased  you  to  personate 
me  and  to  stand  up  to  him  in  my  place. 

Taig:  Any  person  to  put  orders  on  me,  or  to 
bid  me  change  my  habits?  I  'd  give  no  heed!  I  'd 
stand  up  to  him  in  the  spite  of  his  teeth! 

Darby:  If  it  was  n't  for  the  hearthfires  to  be 
slackened  with  the  springtime,  and  my  work  to  be 
lessened  with  the  strengthening  of  the  sun,  I  'd 
sooner  not  see  him  till  another  moon  is  passed,  or 
two  moons. 


The  Bogie  Men  n 

Taig:  He  to  bid  me  read  out  the  news  of  the 
world,  taking  me  to  be  a  scholar,  I  'd  give  him 
words  that  are  in  no  books !  I'd  give  him  newses ! 
I  'd  knock  rights  out  of  him  or  any  one  I  ever 
seen. 

Darby:  I  could  speak  only  of  my  trade.  The 
boundaries  of  the  world  to  be  between  us,  I  'm 
thinking  I  'd  never  ask  to  go  cross  them  at  all. 

Taig:  He  to  go  into  Court  swearing  witnesses 
and  to  bring  me  along  with  him  to  face  the  judges 
and  the  whole  troop  of  the  police,  I  'd  go  bail  I  '11 
be  no  way  daunted  or  scared. 

Darby:  What  way  can  I  keep  company  with 
him?  I  that  was  partly  reared  in  the  workhouse. 
And  he  having  a  star  on  his  hat  and  a  golden  apple 
in  his  hand.  He  will  maybe  be  bidding  me  to 
scour  myself  with  soapy  water  all  the  Sundays 
and  Holy  days  of  the  year !  I  tell  you  I  am  getting 
low  hearted.  I  pray  to  the  Lord  to  forgive  me 
where  I  did  not  go  under  the  schoolmaster's  rod ! 

Taig:  I  that  will  shape  crampy  words  the  same 
as  any  scholar  at  all!  I'll  let  on  to  be  a  master  of 
learning  and  of  Latin ! 

Darby:  Ah,  what  letting  on?  It  is  Timothy 
will  look  through  me  the  same  as  if  my  eyes  were 
windows,  and  my  thoughts  standing  as  plain  as 
cattle  under  the  risen  sun!  It  is  easier  letting  on 
to  have  knowledge  than  to  put  on  manners  and 
behaviour. 


12  The  Bogie  Men 

Taig:  Ah,  what 's  manners  but  to  refuse  no 
man  a  share  of  your  bite  and  to  keep  back  your 
hand  from  throwing  stones? 

Darby:  I  tell  you  I  'm  in  shivers!  My  heart 
that  is  shaking  like  an  ivy  leaf!  My  bones  that 
are  loosened  and  slackened  in  the  similitude  of  a 
rope  of  tow!  I  'd  sooner  meet  with  a  lion  of  the 
wilderness  or  the  wickedest  wind  of  the  hills!  I 
thought  it  never  would  come  to  pass.  I  'd  sooner 
go  into  the  pettiest  house,  the  wildest  home  and 
the  worst !  Look  at  here  now.  Let  me  stop  along 
with  yourself.  I  never  let  out  so  much  of  my 
heart  to  any  one  at  all  till  this  day.  It 's  a  pity 
we  should  be  parted! 

Taig:  Is  it  to  come  following  after  me  you 
would,  before  the  face  of  Dermot? 

Darby:  I  'd  feel  no  dread  and  you  being  at  my 
side. 

Taig:  Dermot  to  see  me  in  company  with  the 
like  of  you!  I  would  n't  for  the  whole  world  he 
should  be  aware  I  had  ever  any  traffic  with 
chimneys  or  with  soot.  It  would  not  be  for  his 
honour  you  to  draw  anear  him! 

Darby:  (Indignantly.)  No  but  Timothy  that 
would  make  objection  to  yourself !  He  that  would 
whip  the  world  for  manners  and  behaviour! 

Taig:  Dermot  that  is  better  again.  He  that 
would  write  and  dictate  to  you  at  the  one 
time! 


The  Bogie  Men  13 

Darby:  What  is  that  beside  owning  tillage,  and 
to  need  no  education,  but  to  take  rents  into  your 
hand? 

Taig:  I  would  never  believe  him  to  own  an 
estate. 

Darby:  Why  wouldn't  he  own  it?  "The 
biggest  thing  and  the  grandest,"  my  mother 
would  say  when  I  would  ask  her  what  was  he 
doing. 

Taig:  Ah,  what  could  be  before  selling  out 
silks  and  satins.  There  is  many  an  estated  lord 
could  n't  reach  you  out  a  fourpenny  bit. 

Darby:  The  grandest  house  around  the  seas 
of  Ireland  he  should  have,  beautifully  made  up! 
You  would  nearly  go  astray  in  it!  It  would  n't 
be  known  what  you  could  make  of  it  at  all !  You 
would  n't  have  it  walked  in  a  month! 

Taig:  What  is  that  beside  having  a  range  of 
shops  as  wide  maybe  as  the  street  beyond? 

Darby:  A  house  would  be  the  capital  of  the 
county!  One  door  for  the  rich,  one  door  for  the 
common !  Velvet  carpets  rolled  up,  the  way  there 
would  no  dust  from  the  chimney  fall  upon  them. 
A  hundred  would  n't  be  many  standing  in  a  corner 
of  that  place !  A  high  bed  of  feathers,  curled  hair 
mattresses.  A  cover  laid  on  it  would  be  flowery 
with  blossoms  of  gold! 

Taig:  Muslin  and  gauze,  cambric  and  linen! 
Canton  crossbar!  Glass  windows  full  up  of 


14  The  Bogie  Men 

ribbons  as  gaudy  as  the  crooked  bow  in  the  sky! 
Sovereigns  and  shillings  in  and  out  as  plenty  as  to 
riddle  rape  seed.  Sure  them  that  do  be  selling  in 
shops  die  leaving  millions. 

Darby:  Your  man  is  not  so  good  as  mine  in  his 
office  or  in  his  billet. 

Taig:  There  is  the  horn  of  the  coach.  Get  out 
now  till  I  '11  prepare  myself.  He  might  chance  to 
come  seeking  for  me  here. 

Darby:  There  's  a  lather  of  sweat  on  myself. 
That 's  my  tin  can  of  water ! 

Taig:  (Holding  can  from  him.}  Get  out  I  tell 
you!  I  would  n't  wish  him  to  feel  the  smell  of 
you  on  the  breeze. 

Darby:  (Almost  crying.}  You  are  a  mean 
savage  to  go  keeping  from  me  my  tin  can  and  my 
rag! 

Taig:    Go  wash  yourself  at  the  pump  can't  you  ? 

Darby:  That  we  may  never  be  within  the  same 
four  walls  again,  or  come  under  the  lintel  of  the 
one  door!  (He  goes  out.} 

Taig:  (Calling  after  him  while  he  takes  a  suit 
of  clothes  from  his  bag.}  I  'm  not  like  yourself!  I 
have  good  clothes  to  put  on  me,  what  you  have  n't 
got !  A  body-coat  my  mother  made  out — she  lost 
up  to  three  shillings  on  it, — and  a  hat — and  a 
speckled  blue  cravat.  (He  hastily  throws  off  his 
sweep's  smock  and  cap,  and  puts  on  clothes.  As  he 
does  he  sings:} 


The  Bogie  Men  15 

All  round  my  hat  I  wore  a  green  ribbon, 
All  round  my  hat  for  a  year  and  a  day; 
And  if  any  one  asks  me  the  reason  I  wore  it 
I  '11  say  that  my  true  love  went  over  the  sea! 

All  in  my  hat  I  will  stick  a  blue  feather 
The  same  as  the  birds  do  be  up  in  the  tree; 
And  if  you  would  ask  me  the  reason  I  do  it 
I  '11  tell  you  my  true  love  is  come  back  to  me! 

(He  washes  his  face  and  wipes  it,  looking  at  him- 
self in  the  tin  can.  He  catches  sight  of  a  straw  hat 
passing  window.)  Who  is  that?  A  gentleman? 
(He  draws  back.) 

(Darby   comes   in.    He  has  changed    his 
clothes  and  wears  a  straw  hat  and  light 
coat  and  trousers.    He  is  looking  for  a 
necktie  which  he  had  dropped  and  picks 
up.    His  back  is  turned  to  Taig  who  is 
standing  at  the  other  door.) 
Taig:    (Awed.)    It  cannot  be  that  you  are 
Dermot  Melody? 

Darby:  My  father's  name  was  Melody  sure 
enough,  till  he  lost  his  life  in  the  year  of  the  black 
potatoes. 

Taig:  It  is  yourself  I  am  come  here  purposely 
to  meet  with. 

Darby:  You  should  be  my  mother's  sister's  son 
so,  Timothy  O'Harragha. 


1 6  The  Bogie  Men 

Taig:  (Sheepishly.)  I  am  that.  I  am  sorry 
indeed  it  failed  me  to  be  out  before  you  in  the 
street. 

Darby:  Oh,  I  would  n't  be  looking  for  that 
much  from  you.  (They  are  trying  to  keep  their 
backs  to  each  other,  and  to  rub  their  faces  cleaner.) 

Taig:  I  would  n't  wish  to  be  anyway  trouble- 
some to  you.  I  am  badly  worthy  of  you. 

Darby:  It  is  in  dread  I  am  of  being  troublesome 
to  yourself. 

Taig:  Oh,  it  would  be  hard  for  you  to  be  that. 
Nothing  you  could  put  on  me  would  be  any  hard- 
ship at  all,  if  it  was  to  walk  steel  thistles. 

Darby:    You  have  a  willing  heart  surely. 

Taig:  Any  little  job  at  all  I  could  do  for 
you 

Darby:  All  I  would  ask  of  you  is  to  give  me 
my  nourishment  and  my  bite. 

Taig:  I  will  do  that.  I  will  be  your  serving 
man. 

Darby:    Ah,  you  are  going  too  far  in  that. 

Taig:  It 's  my  born  duty  to  do  that  much. 
I  '11  bring  your  dinner  before  you,  if  I  can  be  any- 
way pleasing  to  you;  you  that  is  used  to  wealthy 
people. 

Darby:  Indeed  I  was  often  in  a  house  having 
up  to  twenty  chimneys. 

Taig:  You  are  a  rare  good  man,  nothing  short 
of  it,  and  you  going  as  you  did  so  high  in  the  world. 


The  Bogie  Men  17 

Darby:  Any  person  would  go  high  before  he 
would  put  his  hand  out  through  the  top  of  a 
chimney. 

Taig:  Having  full  and  plenty  of  every  good 
thing. 

Darby:  I  saw  nothing  so  plentiful  as  soot. 
There  is  not  the  equal  of  it  nourishing  a  garden. 
It  would  turn  every  crop  blue,  being  so  good. 

Taig:  (Weeping.}  It  is  a  very  unkind  thing 
to  go  drawing  chimneys  down  on  me  and  soot, 
and  you  having  all  that  ever  was! 

Darby:    Little  enough  I  have  or  ever  had. 

Taig:  To  be  casting  up  my  trade  against  me, 
I  being  poor  and  hungry,  and  you  having 
coins  and  tokens  from  all  the  goldpits  of  the 
world. 

Darby:  I  wish  I  ever  handled  a  coin  of  gold 
in  my  lifetime. 

Taig:  To  speak  despisingly,  not  pitiful.  And 
I  thinking  the  chimney  sweeping  would  be  forgot 
and  not  reproached  to  me,  if  you  have  handled  the 
fooleries  and  watches  of  the  world,  that  you  don't 
know  the  end  of  your  riches! 

Darby:  I  am  maybe  getting  your  meaning 
wrong,  your  tongue  being  a  little  hard  and  sharp 
because  you  are  Englified,  but  I  am  without  new 
learnments  and  so  I  speak  flat. 

Taig:  You  to  have  the  millions  of  King  Solo- 
mon, you  have  no  right  to  be  putting  reflections 


1 8  The  Bogie  Men 

on  me!    I  would  never  behave  that  way,  and 
housefuls  to  fall  into  my  hand. 

Darby:  You  are  striving  to  put  ridicule  on  me 
and  to  make  a  fool  of  me.  That  is  a  very  un- 
seemly thing  to  do !  I  that  did  not  ask  to  go  hide 
the  bag  or  the  brush. 

Taig:  There  you  are  going  on  again.  Is  it  to 
the  customers  in  your  shops  you  will  be  giving 
out  that  it  was  my  lot  to  go  through  the  world  as  a 
sweep? 

Darby:  Customers  and  shops!  Will  you  stop 
your  funning?  Let  you  quit  mocking  and  making 
a  sport  of  me !  That  is  very  bad  acting  behaviour. 

Taig:  Striving  to  blacken  my  face  again  at 
the  time  I  had  it  washed  pure  white.  You  surely 
have  a  heart  of  marble. 

Darby:  What  way  at  all  can  you  be  putting 
such  a  rascally  say  out  of  your  mouth?  I  '11  take 
no  more  talk  from  you,  I  to  be  twenty-two  degrees 
lower  than  the  Hottentots ! 

Taig:  If  you  are  my  full  cousin  Dermot  Melody 
I  '11  make  you  quit  talking  of  soot ! 

Darby:    I  '11  take  no  more  talk  from  yourself! 

Taig:    Have  a  care  now! 

Darby:    Have  a  care  yourself! 

(Each  gives  the  other  a  push.  They  stumble 
and  fall,  sitting  facing  one  another. 
Darby's  hat  falls  off.) 

Taig:    Is  it  you  it  is? 


The  Bogie  Men  19 

Darby:    Who  else  would  it  be? 

Taig:  What  call  had  you  letting  on  to  be 
Dermot  Melody? 

Darby:  What  letting  on?  Dermot  is  my  full 
name,  but  Darby  is  the  name  I  am  called. 

Taig:  Are  you  a  man  owning  riches  and  shops 
and  merchandise? 

Darby:    I  am  not,  or  anything  of  the  sort. 

Taig:    Have  you  teems  of  money  in  the  bank? 

Darby:  If  I  had  would  I  be  sitting  on  this 
floor? 

Taig:    You  thief  you ! 

Darby:  Thief  yourself!  Turn  around  now  till 
I  will  measure  your  features  and  your  face. 
Yourself  is  it!  Is  it  personating  my  cousin 
Timothy  you  are? 

Taig:    I  am  personating  no  one  but  myself. 

Darby:  You  letting  on  to  be  an  estated  magis- 
trate and  my  own  cousin  and  such  a  great  genera- 
tion of  a  man.  And  you  not  owning  so  much  as 
a  rood  of  ridges ! 

Taig:  Covering  yourself  with  choice  clothing 
for  to  deceive  me  and  to  lead  me  astray ! 

Darby:  Putting  on  your  head  a  fine  glossy  hat 
and  I  thinking  you  to  have  come  with  the  spring- 
tide, the  way  you  had  luck  through  your  life ! 

Taig:  Letting  on  to  be  Dermot  Melody !  You 
that  are  but  the  cull  and  the  weakling  of  a  race! 
It  is  a  queer  game  you  played  on  me  and  a  crooked 


20  The  Bogie  Men 

game.  I  never  would  have  brought  my  legs  so  far 
to  meet  with  the  sooty  likes  of  you ! 

Darby:  Letting  on  to  be  my  poor  Timothy 
O'Harragha! 

Taig:  I  never  was  called  but  Taig.  Timothy 
was  a  sort  of  a  Holy  day  name. 

Darby:  Where  now  are  our  two  cousins?  Or 
is  it  that  the  both  of  us  are  cracked? 

Taig:    It  is,  or  our  mothers  before  us. 

Darby:  My  mother  was  a  McGarrity  woman 
from  Loughrea.  It  is  Mary  was  her  Christened 
name. 

Taig:  So  was  my  own  mother  of  the  McGar- 
ritys.  It  is  sisters  they  were  sure  enough. 

Darby:  That  makes  us  out  to  be  full  cousins 
in  the  heel. 

Taig:  You  no  better  than  myself!  And  the 
prayers  I  used  to  be  saying  for  you,  and  you  but 
a  sketch  and  an  excuse  of  a  man! 

Darby:  Ah,  I  am  thinking  people  put  more  in 
their  prayers  than  was  ever  put  in  them  by  God. 

Taig:  Our  mothers  picturing  us  to  one  another 
as  if  we  were  the  best  in  the  world. 

Darby:  Lies  I  suppose  they  were  drawing  down, 
for  to  startle  us  into  good  behaviour. 

Taig:  Would  n't  you  say  now  mothers  to  be  a 
terror? 

Darby:  And  we  nothing  at  all  after  but  two 
chimney  sweepers  and  two  harmless  drifty  lads. 


The  Bogie  Men  21 

Taig:  Where  is  the  great  quality  dinner  your- 
self was  to  give  me,  having. seven  sorts  of  dressed 
meat?  Pullets  and  bacon  I  was  looking  for,  and 
to  fall  on  an  easy  life. 

Darby:  Gone  like  the  clouds  of  the  winter's  fog. 
We  rose  out  of  it  the  same  as  we  went  in. 

Taig:  We  have  nothing  to  do  but  to  starve 
with  the  hunger,  and  you  being  as  bare  as  myself. 

Darby:  We  are  in  a  bad  shift  surely.  We 
must  perish  with  the  want  of  support.  It  is  one 
of  the  tricks  of  the  world  does  be  played  upon  the 
children  of  Adam. 

Taig:  All  we  have  to  do  is  to  crawl  to  the  poor- 
house  gate.  Or  to  go  dig  a  pit  in  the  graveyard, 
as  it  is  short  till  we  '11  be  stretched  there  with  the 
want  of  food. 

Darby:  Food  is  it?  There  is  nothing  at  this 
time  against  me  eating  my  bit  of  a  herring. 
(Seizes  it  and  takes  a  bite.} 

Taig:    Give  me  a  divide  of  it. 

Darby:  Give  me  a  drop  of  your  own  porter  so, 
is  in  the  bottle.  There  need  be  no  dread  on  you 
now,  of  you  being  no  match  for  your  grand  man. 

Taig:  That  is  so.  (Drinks.}  I  '11  strive  no 
more  to  fit  myself  for  high  quality  relations.  I  am 
free  from  patterns  of  high  up  cousins  from  this 
out.  I  '11  be  a  pattern  to  myself. 

Darby:  I  am  well  content  being  free  of  you, 
the  way  you  were  pictured  to  be.  I  declare  to 


22  The  Bogie  Men 

my  goodness,  the  name  of  you  put  terror  on  me 
through  the  whole  of  my  lifetime,  and  your  image 
to  be  clogging  and  checking  me  on  every  side. 

Taig:  To  be  thinking  of  you  being  in  the  world 
was  a  holy  terror  to  myself.  I  give  you  my  word 
you  came  through  my  sleep  the  same  as  a  scarecrow 
or  a  dragon. 

Darby:  It  is  great  things  I  will  be  doing  from 
this  out,  we  two  having  nothing  to  cast  up  against 
one  another.  To  be  quit  of  Timothy  the  bogie 
and  to  get  Taig  for  a  comrade,  I  'm  as  proud  as 
the  Crown  of  France ! 

Taig:  I  'm  in  dread  of  neither  bumble  or  bag- 
man or  bugaboo!  I  will  regulate  things  from 
myself  from  this  out. 

Darby:  There  to  be  fineness  of  living  in  the 
world,  why  would  n't  I  make  it  out  for  myself? 

Taig:  It  is  to  the  harbours  of  America  we  will 
work  our  way  across  the  wideness  of  the  sea.  It  is 
well  able  we  should  be  to  go  mounting  up  aloft 
in  ropes.  Come  on  Darby  out  of  this ! 

Darby:  There  is  magic  and  mastery  come  into 
me !  This  day  has  put  wings  to  my  heart ! 

Taig:  Be  easy  now.  We  are  maybe  not  clear 
of  the  chimneys  yet. 

Darby:  What  signifies  chimneys?  We  '11  go 
up  in  them  till  we  '11  take  a  view  of  the  Seven  Stars ! 
It  is  out  beyond  the  hills  of  Burren  I  will  cast  my 
eye,  till  I  '11  see  the  three  gates  of  Heaven! 


The  Bogie  Men  23 

Taig:  It 's  like  enough,  luck  will  flow  to  you. 
The  way  most  people  fail  is  in  not  keeping  up  the 
heart.  Faith,  it 's  well  you  have  myself  to  mind 
you.  Gather  up  now  your  brush  and  your  bag. 

(They  go  to  the  door  holding  each  other's  hands 
and  singing:  "All  in  my  hat  I  will 
cock  a  blue  feather"  etc.) 

Curtain 


THE  FULL  MOON 


TO  ALL  SANE  PEOPLE  IN  OR  OUT  OF  CLOON 
WHO  KNOW  THEIR  NEIGHBOURS  TO  BE 
NATURALLY  CRACKED  OR  SOMEWAY  QUEER 
OR  TO  HAVE  GONE  WRONG  IN  THE  HEAD. 


PERSONS 
Shawn  Early 
Barttey  Fallen 
Peter  Tannian 
Hyacinth  Halvey 
Mrs.  Broderick 
Miss  Joyce 
Cracked  Mary 
Davideen,  HER  BROTHER,  AN  INNOCENT 


ALL  SANE 


26 


THE  FULL  MOON 

Scene:  A  shed  close  to  Cloon  Station;  Bartley 
Fatton  is  sitting  gloomily  on  a  box;  Hyacinth 
Halvey  and  Shawn  Early  are  coining  in  at 
door. 

Shawn  Early:  It  is  likely  the  train  will  not  be 
up  to  its  time,  and  cattle  being  on  it  for  the  fair. 
It 's  best  wait  in  the  shed.  Is  that  Bartley 
Fallon?  What  way  are  you,  Bartley? 

Bartley  Fallon:  Faith,  no  way  at  all.  On  the 
drag,  on  the  drag;  striving  to  put  the  bad  times 
over  me. 

Shawn  Early:  Is  it  business  with  the  nine 
o'clock  you  have? 

Bartley  Fallon:  The  wife  that  is  gone  visiting 
to  Tubber,  and  that  has  the  door  locked  till  such 
time  as  she  will  come  back  on  the  train.  And  I 
thought  this  shed  a  place  where  no  bad  thing 
would  be  apt  to  happen  me,  and  not  to  be  going 
through  the  streets,  and  the  darkness  falling. 

Shawn  Early:  It  is  not  long  till  the  full  moon 
will  be  rising. 

Bartley  Fallon:  Everything  that  is  bad,  the 
falling  sickness — God  save  the  mark — or  the  like, 

27 


28  The  Full  Moon 

should  be  at  its  worst  at  the  full  moon.  I  suppose 
because  it  is  the  leader  of  the  stars. 

Shawn  Early:  Ah,  what  could  happen  any 
person  in  the  street  of  Cloon? 

Bartley  Fallon:  There  might.  Look  at  Matt 
Finn,  the  coffin-maker,  put  his  hand  on  a  cage  the 
circus  brought,  and  the  lion  took  and  tore  it  till 
they  stuck  him  with  a  fork  you  'd  rise  dung  with, 
and  at  that  he  let  it  drop.  And  that  was  a  man 
had  never  quitted  Cloon. 

Shawn  Early:  I  thought  you  might  be  sending 
something  to  the  fair. 

Bartley  Fallon:  It  is  n't  to  the  train  I  would  be 
trusting  anything  I  would  have  to  sell,  where  it 
might  be  thrown  off  the  tracks  And  where  would 
be  the  use  sending  the  couple  of  little  lambs  I 
have?  It  is  likely  there  is  no  one  would  ask  me 
where  was  I  going.  When  the  weight  is  not  in 
them,  they  won't  carry  the  price.  Sure,  the  grass 
I  have  is  no  good,  but  seven  times  worse  than  the 
road. 

Shawn  Early:  They  are  saying  there  '11  be 
good  demand  at  the  fair  of  Carrow  to-morrow. 

Hyacinth  Halvey:  To-morrow  the  fair  day  of 
Carrow?  I  was  not  remembering  that. 

Bartley  Fallon:  Ah,  there  won't  be  many  in  it, 
I  *m  thinking.  There  is  n't  a  hungrier  village  in 
Connacht,  they  were  telling  me,  and  it 's  poor  the 
look  of  it  as  well. 


The  Full  Moon  29 

Hyacinth  Halvey:  To-morrow  the  fair  day. 
There  will  be  all  sorts  in  the  streets  to-night. 

Barttey  Fallen:  The  sort  that  will  be  in  it  will 
be  a  bad  sort — sievemakers  and  tramps  and 
neuks. 

Hyacinth  Halvey:  The  tents  on  the  fair  green ; 
there  will  be  music  in  it ;  there  was  a  fiddler  having 
no  legs  would  set  men  of  threescore  years  and  of 
fourscore  years  dancing.  I  can  nearly  hear  his 
tune.  (He  whistles  "  The  Heather  Broom. ") 

Barttey  Fallon:  You  are  apt  to  be  going  there 
on  the  train,  I  suppose?  It  is  well  to  be  you,  Mr. 
Halvey,  having  a  good  place  in  the  town,  and  the 
price  of  your  fare,  and  maybe  six  times  the  price 
of  it,  in  your  pocket. 

Hyacinth  Halvey:  I  did  n't  think  of  that.  I 
wonder  could  I  go — for  one  night  only — and  see 
what  the  lads  are  doing. 

Shawn  Early:  Are  you  forgetting,  Mr.  Halvey, 
that  you  are  to  meet  his  Reverence  on  the  platform 
that  is  coming  home  from  drinking  water  at  the 
Spa? 

Hyacinth  Halvey:  So  I  can  meet  him,  and  get 
in  the  train  after  him  getting  out. 

(Mrs.  Broderick  and  Peter  Tannian  come 
in.) 

Mrs.  Broderick:  Is  that  Mr.  Halvey  is  in  it? 
I  was  looking  for  you  at  the  chapel  as  I  passed, 
and  the  Angelus  bell  after  ringing. 


30  The  Full  Moon 

Hyacinth  Halvey:  Business  I  have  here,  ma'am. 
I  was  in  dread  I  might  not  be  here  before  the  train. 

Mrs.  Broderick:  So  you  might  not,  indeed. 
That  nine  o'clock  train  you  can  never  trust  it  to 
be  late. 

Hyacinth  Halvey:  To  meet  Father  Gregan  I 
am  come,  and  maybe  to  go  on  myself. 

Mrs.  Broderick:  Sure,  I  knew  well  you  would 
be  in  haste  to  be  before  Father  Gregan,  and  we 
knowing  what  we  know. 

Hyacinth  Halvey:  I  have  no  business  only  to 
be  showing  respect  to  him. 

Shawn  Early:  His  good  word  he  will  give  to 
Mr.  Halvey  at  the  Board,  where  it  is  likely  he 
will  be  made  Clerk  of  the  Union  next  week. 

Mrs.  Broderick:  His  good  word  he  will  give  to 
another  thing  besides  that,  I  am  thinking. 

Hyacinth  Halvey:  I  don't  know  what  you  are 
talking  about. 

Mrs.  Broderick:  Did  n't  you  hear  the  news, 
Peter  Tannian,  that  Mr.  Halvey  is  apt  to  be 
linked  and  joined  in  marriage  with  Miss  Joyce, 
the  priest's  housekeeper? 

Peter  Tannian:  I  to  believe  all  the  lies  I  'd 
hear,  I  'd  be  a  racked  man  by  this. 

Mrs.  Broderick:  What  I  say  now  is  as  true  as 
if  you  were  on  the  other  side  of  me.  I  suppose  now 
the  priest  is  come  home  there  '11  be  no  delay 
getting  the  license. 


The  Full  Moon  31 

Hyacinth  Halvey:    It  is  not  so  settled  as  that. 

Mrs.  Broderick:  Why  wouldn't  it  be  settled 
and  it  being  told  at  Mrs.  Delane's  and  through 
the  whole  world? 

Peter  Tannian:  She  should  be  a  steady  wife 
for  him — a  fortied  girl. 

Shawn  Early:  A  very  good  fortune  in  the  bank 
they  are  saying  she  has,  and  she  having  crossed 
the  ocean  twice  to  America. 

Bartley  Fallon:  It 's  as  good  for  him  to  have  a 
woman  will  keep  the  door  open  before  him  and 
his  victuals  ready  and  a  quiet  tongue  in  her  head. 
Not  like  that  little  Tartar  of  my  own. 

Mrs .Broderick.  And  an  educated  woman  along 
with  that.  A  man  of  his  sort,  going  to  be  Clerk 
of  the  Union  and  to  be  taken  up  with  books  and 
papers,  it 's  likely  he  'd  die  in  a  week,  he  to  marry 
a  dunce. 

Bartley  Fallon:    So  it 's  likely  he  would. 

Mrs.  Broderick:  A  little  shop  they  are  saying 
she  will  take,  for  to  open  a  flour  store,  and  you  to 
be  keeping  the  accounts,  the  way  you  would  not 
spend  any  waste  time. 

Hyacinth  Halvey:  I  have  no  mind  to  be  settling 
myself  down  yet  a  while.  I  might  maybe  take 
a  ramble  here  or  there.  There  's  many  of  my 
comrades  in  the  States. 

Mrs.  Broderick:  To  go  away  from  Cloon,  is  it? 
And  why  would  you  think  to  do  that,  and  the 


32  The  Full  Moon 

whole  town  the  same  as  a  father  and  mother  to 
you?  Sure,  the  sergeant  would  live  and  die  with 
you,  and  there  are  no  two  from  this  to  Galway  as 
great  as  yourself  and  the  priest.  To  see  you 
coming  up  the  street,  and  your  Dublin  top-coat 
around  you,  there  are  some  would  give  you  a 
salute  the  same  nearly  as  the  Bishop. 

Peter  Tannian:  They  would  n't  do  that  maybe 
and  they  hearing  things  as  I  heard  them. 

Hyacinth  Halvey:    What  things? 

Peter  Tannian:  There  was  a  herd  passing 
through  from  Carrow.  It  is  what  I  heard  him 
saying 

Mrs.  Broderick:  You  heard  nothing  of  Mr. 
Halvey,  but  what  is  worthy  of  him.  But  that 's 
the  way  always.  The  most  thing  a  man  does,  the 
less  he  will  get  for  it  after. 

Peter  Tannian:  A  grand  place  in  Carrow  I 
suppose  you  had? 

Hyacinth  Halvey:  I  had  plenty  of  places.  Giv- 
ing out  proclamations — attending  waterworks 

Mrs.  Broderick:  It  is  well  fitted  for  any  place 
he  is,  and  all  that  was  written  around  him  and  he 
coming  into  Cloon. 

Peter  Tannian:    Writing  is  easy. 

Mrs.  Broderick:  Look  at  him  since  he  was  here, 
this  twelvemonth  back,  that  he  never  went  into 
a  dance-house  or  stood  at  a  cross-road,  and  never 
lost  a  half-an-hour  with  drink.  Made  no  blunder, 


The  Full  Moon  33 

made  no  rumours.     Whatever  could  be  said  of 
his  worth,  it  could  not  be  too  well  said. 

Hyacinth  Halvey:  Do  you  think  now,  ma'am, 
would  it  be  any  harm  I  to  go  spend  a  day  or 
maybe  two  days  out  of  this — I  to  go  on  the 
train 

Miss  Joyce:  (At  door,  coming  in  backwards.) 
Go  back  now,  go  back!  Don't  be  following  after 
me  in  through  the  door!  Is  Mr.  Halvey  there? 
Don't  let  her  come  following  me,  Mr.  Halvey ! 

Hyacinth  Halvey:    Who  is  it  is  in  it? 

(Sound  of  discordant  singing  outside.) 

Miss  Joyce:  Cracked  Mary  it  is,  that  is  after 
coming  back  this  day  from  the  asylum. 

Hyacinth  Halvey:    I  never  saw  her,  I  think. 

Shawn  Early:  The  creature,  she  was  light 
this  long  while  and  not  good  in  the  head,  and  at 
the  last  lunacy  came  on  her  and  she  was  tied  and 
bound.  Sometimes  singing  and  dancing  she  does 
be,  and  sometimes  troublesome. 

Miss  Joyce:  They  had  a  right  to  keep  her 
spancelled  in  the  asylum.  She  would  begrudge 
any  respectable  person  to  be  walking  the  street. 
She  'd  hoot  you,  she  'd  shout  you,  she  'd  clap  her 
hands  at  you.  She  is  a  blight  in  the  town. 

Hyacinth  Halvey:  There  is  a  lad  along  with 
her. 

Shawn  Early:  It  is  Davideen,  her  brother, 
that  is  innocent.  He  was  left  rambling  from 

3 


34  The  Full  Moon 

place  to  place  the  time  she  was  put  within  walls. 
(Cracked  Mary  and  Davideen  come  in. 
Miss  Joyce  clings  to  Hyacinth's  arm.} 

Cracked  Mary:  Give  me  a  charity  now,  the 
way  I  '11  be  keeping  a  little  rag  on  me  and  a  little 
shoe  to  my  foot.  Give  me  the  price  of  tobacco 
and  the  price  of  a  grain  of  tea;  for  tobacco  is 
blessed  and  tea  is  good  for  the  head. 

Shawn  Early:  Give  out  now,  Davideen,  a 
verse  of  "  The  Heather  Broom."  That 's  a 
splendid  tune. 

Davideen:    (Sings.) 

Oh,  don't  you  remember, 
As  it 's  often  I  told  you, 
As  you  passed  through  our  kitchen, 
That  a  new  broom  sweeps  clean? 
Come  out  now  and  buy  one, 
Come  out  now  and  try  one — 
(His  voice  cracks,  and  he  breaks  off,  laughing 
foolishly.} 

Mrs.  Broderick:  He  has  a  sweet  note  in  his 
voice,  but  to  know  or  to  understand  what  he  is 
doing,  he  could  n't  do  it. 

Cracked  Mary:  Leave  him  a  while.  His  song 
that  does  be  clogged  through  the  daytime,  the 
same  as  the  sight  is  clogged  with  myself.  It 
is  n't  but  in  the  night  time  I  can  see  anything 
worth  while.  Davy  is  a  proper  boy,  a  proper  boy ; 


The  Full  Moon  35 

let  you  leave  Davy  alone.  It  was  himself  came 
before  me  ere  yesterday  in  the  morning,  and  I 
walking  out  the  madhouse  door. 

Shawn  Early:  It  is  often  there  will  fiddlers  be 
waiting  to  play  for  them  coming  out,  that  are 
maybe  the  finest  dancers  of  the  day. 

Cracked  Mary:  Waiting  before  me  he  was,  and 
no  one  to  give  him  knowledge  unless  it  might  be 
the  Big  Man.  I  give  you  my  word  he  near  ate 
the  face  off  me.  As  glad  to  see  me  he  was  as  if 
I  had  dropped  from  heaven.  Come  hither  to  me, 
Davy,  and  give  no  heed  to  them.  It  is  as  dull 
and  as  lagging  as  themselves  you  would  be  maybe, 
and  the  world  to  be  different  and  the  moon  to 
change  its  courses  with  the  sun. 

Bartley  Fallon:  I  never  would  wish  to  be  put 
within  a  madhouse  before  I  'd  die. 

Cracked  Mary:  Sorry  they  were  losing  me. 
There  was  not  a  better  prisoner  in  it  than  my  own 
four  bones. 

Bartley  Fallon:  Squeals  you  would  hear  from 
it,  they  were  telling  me,  like  you  'd  hear  at  the 
ringing  of  the  pigs.  Savages  with  whips  beating 
them  the  same  as  hounds.  You  would  not  stand 
and  listen  to  them  for  a  hundred  sovereigns.  Of 
all  bad  things  that  can  come  upon  a  man,  it  is 
certain  the  madness  is  the  last. 

Miss  Joyce:  It  is  likely  she  was  well  content  in 
it,  and  the  friends  she  had  being  of  her  own  class. 


36  The  Full  Moon 

Cracked  Mary:  What  way  could  you  make 
friends  with  people  would  be  always  talking? 
Too  much  of  talk  and  of  noise  there  was  in  it, 
cursing,  and  praying,  and  tormenting;  some 
dancing,  some  singing,  and  one  writing  a  letter 
to  a  she  devil  called  Lucifer.  I  not  to  close  my 
ears,  I  would  have  lost  the  sound  of  Davideen's 
song. 

Miss  Joyce:  It  was  good  shelter  you  got  in  it 
through  the  bad  weather,  and  not  to  be  out 
perishing  under  cold,  the  same  as  the  starlings 
in  the  snow. 

Cracked  Mary:  I  was  my  seven  months  in  it, 
my  seven  months  and  a  day.  My  good  clothes 
that  went  astray  on  me  and1  my  boots.  My  fine 
gaudy  dress  was  all  moth-eated,  that  was  worked 
with  the  wings  of  birds.  To  fall  into  dust  and 
ashes  it  did,  and  the  wings  rose  up  into  the  high 
air. 

Bartley  Fallon.  Take  care  would  the  madness 
catch  on  to  ourselves  the  same  as  the  chin-cough 
or  the  pock. 

Mrs.  Broderick:  Ah,  that 's  not  the  way  it 
goes  travelling  from  one  to  another,  but  some 
that  are  naturally  cracked  and  inherit  it. 

Shawn  Early:  It  is  a  family  failing  with  her 
tribe.  The  most  of  them  get  giddy  in  their  latter 
end. 

Miss  Joyce:    It  might  be  it  was  sent  as  a 


The  Full  Moon  37 

punishment  before  birth,  for  to  show  the  power 
of  God. 

Peter  Tannian:  It  is  tea-drinking  does  it, 
and  that  is  the  reason  it  is  on  the  wife  it  is  apt  to 
fall  for  the  most  part. 

Mrs.  Broderick:  Ah,  there 's  some  does  be 
thinking  their  wives  is  n't  right,  and  there 's 
others  think  they  are  too  right.  There  to  be  any 
fear  of  me  going  astray,  I  give  you  my  word  I  'd 
lose  my  wits  on  the  moment. 

Hyacinth  Halvey:  There  are  some  say  it  is  the 
moon. 

Shawn  Early:  So  it  is  too.  The  time  the  moon 
is  going  back,  the  blood  that  is  in  a  person  does 
be  weakening,  but  when  the  moon  is  strong,  the 
blood  that  moves  strong  in  the  same  way.  And 
it  to  be  at  the  full,  it  drags  the  wits  along  with  it, 
the  same  as  it  drags  the  tide. 

Mrs.  Broderick:  Those  that  are  light  show  off 
more  and  have  the  talk  of  twenty  the  time  it  is 
at  the  full,  that  is  sure  enough.  And  to  hold  up 
a  silk  handkerchief  and  to  look  through  it,  you 
would  see  the  four  quarters  of  the  moon;  I  was 
often  told  that. 

Miss  Joyce:  It  is  not  you,  Mr.  Halvey,  will 
give  in  to  an  unruly  thing  like  the  moon,  that  is 
under  no  authority,  and  cannot  be  put  back,  the 
same  as  a  fast  day  that  would  chance  to  fall 
upon  a  feast. 


38  The  Full  Moon 

Hyacinth  Halvey:  It  is  likely  it  is  put  in  the 
sky  the  same  as  a  clock  for  our  use,  the  way  you 
would  pick  knowledge  of  the  weather,  the  time 
the  stars  would  be  wild  about  it. 

Mrs.  Broderick:  That  is  very  nice  now.  The 
thing  you  'd  know,  you  'd  like  to  go  on,  and  to 
hear  more  or  less  about  it. 

Miss  Joyce:  (To  H.  H.)  It  is  a  lantern  for 
your  own  use  it  will  be  to-night,  and  his  Reverence 
coming  home  through  the  street,  and  yourself 
coming  along  with  him  to  the  house. 

Mrs.  Broderick:  That 's  right,  Miss  Joyce. 
Keep  a  good  grip  of  him.  What  do  you  say  to  him 
talking  a  while  ago  as  if  his  mind  was  running  on 
some  thought  to  leave  Cloon? 

Miss  Joyce:    What  way  could  he  leave  it? 

Hyacinth  Halvey:  No  way  at  all,  I  'm  thinking, 
unless  there  would  be  a  miracle  worked  by  the 
moon. 

:  Mrs.  Broderick:  Ah,  miracles  is  gone  out  of 
the  world  this  long  time,  with  education,  unless 
that  they  might  happen  in  your  own  inside. 

Miss  Joyce:  I  '11  go  set  the  table  and  kindle 
the  fire,  and  I  '11  come  back  to  meet  the  train 
with  you  myself. 

(She  goes.    A  noise  heard  outside.} 

Hyacinth  Halvey:    What  is  that  now? 

Shawn  Early:  (At  door.)  Some  noise  as  of 
running. 


The  Full  Moon  39 

Bartley  Fallon:  (Going  to  door.}  It  might  chance 
to  be  some  prisoner  they  would  be  bringing  to  the 
train. 

Peter  Tannian:  No,  but  some  lads  that  are 
running. 

(They  go  out.  H.  H.  is  going  too,  but  Mrs. 
Broderick  goes  before  him  and  turns  him 
round  in  doorway.) 

Mrs.  Broderick:  Don't  be  coming  out  now  in 
the  dust  that  was  formed  by  the  heat  is  in  the 
breeze.  It  would  be  a  pity  to  spoil  your  Dublin 
coat,  or  your  shirt  that  is  that  white  you  would 
nearly  take  it  to  be  blue. 

(She  goes  out,  pushing  him  in  and  shutting 
door  after  her.) 

Cracked  Mary:    Ha !  ha !  ha ! 

Hyacinth  Halvey:  What  is  it  you  are  laughing 
at? 

Cracked  Mary:  Ha!  ha!  ha!  It  is  a  very 
laughable  thing  now,  the  third  most  laughable 
thing  I  ever  met  with  in  my  lifetime. 

Hyacinth  Halvey:    What  is  that? 

Cracked  Mary:  A  fine  young  man  to  be  shut 
up  and  bound  in  a  narrow  little  shed,  and  the  full 
moon  rising,  and  I  knowing  what  I  know! 

Hyacinth  Halvey:  It 's  little  you  are  likely  to 
know  about  me. 

Cracked  Mary:  Tambourines  and  fiddles  and 
pipes — melodeons  and  the  whistling  of  drums. 


40  The  Full  Moon 

Hyacinth  Halvey:  I  suppose  it  is  the  Carrow 
fair  you  are  talking  about. 

Cracked  Mary:  Sitting  within  walls,  and  a 
top-coat  wrapped  around  him,  and  mirth  and 
music  and  frolic  being  in  the  place  we  know,  and 
some  dancing  sets  on  the  floor. 

Hyacinth  Halvey:  I  wish  I  was  n't  in  this 
place  to-night.  I  would  like  well  to  be  going  on 
the  train,  if  it  was  n't  for  the  talk  the  neighbours 
would  be  making.  I  would  like  well  to  slip  away. 
It  is  a  long  time  I  am  going  without  any  sort  of 
funny  comrades. 

(Goes  to   door.     The  others  enter  quickly, 
pushing  him  back.} 

Bartley  Fallon:  Nothing  at  all  to  see.  It  would 
be  best  for  us  to  have  stopped  where  we  were. 

Mrs.  Broderick:  Running  like  foals  to  see  it, 
and  nothing  to  be  in  it  worth  while. 

Hyacinth  Halvey:    What  was  it  was  in  it? 

Shawn  Early:  Nothing  at  all  but  some  lads 
that  were  running  in  pursuit  of  a  dog. 

Bartley  Fallon:  Near  knocked  us  they  did, 
and  they  coming  round  the  corner  of  the  wall. 

Hyacinth  Halvey:    Is  it  that  it  was  a  mad  dog? 

Peter  Tannian:  Ah,  what  mad?  Mad  dogs 
are  done  away  with  now  by  the  head  Government 
and  muzzles  and  the  police. 

Bartley  Fallon:  They  are  more  watchful  over 
them  than  they  used.  But  all  the  same,  you  to 


The  Full  Moon  41 

see  a  strange  dog  afar  off,  you  would  be  uneasy, 
thinking  it  might  be  yourself  he  would  be  search- 
ing out  as  his  prey. 

Mrs.  Broderick:  Sure,  there  did  a  dog  go  mad 
through  Galway,  and  the  whole  town  rose  against 
him,  and  flocked  him  into  a  corner,  and  shot  him 
there.  He  did  no  harm  after,  he  being  made  an 
end  of  at  the  first. 

Shawn  Early:  It  might  be  that  dog  they  were 
pursuing  after  was  mad,  on  the  head  of  being 
under  the  full  moon. 

Cracked  Mary:  (Jumping  up  excitedly.}  That 
mad  dog,  he  is  a  Dublin  dog;  he  is  betune  you 
and  Belfast — he  is  running  ahead — you  could  n't 
keep  up  with  him. 

Hyacinth  Halvey:  There  is  one,  so,  mad  upon 
the  road. 

Cracked  Mary:  There  is  police  after  him,  but 
they  cannot  come  up  with  him;  he  destroyed  a 
splendid  sow ;  nine  bonavs  they  buried  or  less. 

Shawn  Early:    What  place  is  he  gone  now? 

Cracked  Mary:  He  made  off  towards  Craugh- 
well,  and  he  bit  a  fine  young  man. 

Bartley  Fallon:  So  he  would  too.  Sure,  when 
a  mad  dog  would  be  going  about,  on  horseback 
or  wherever  you  are,  you  're  ruined. 

Cracked  Mary:  That  dog  is  going  on  all  the 
time;  he  wouldn't  stop,  but  go  ahead  and  bring 
that  mouthful  with  him.  He  is  still  on  the  road ; 


42  The  Full  Moon 

he  is  keeping  the  middle  of  the  road;  they  say  he 
is  as  big  as  a  calf. 

Hyacinth  Halvey:  It  is  the  police  I  have  a 
right  to  forewarn  to  go  after  him. 

Cracked  Mary:  The  motor  cars  is  going  to  get 
out  to  track  him,  for  fear  he  would  destroy  the 
world ! 

Mrs.  Broderick:  That  is  a  very  nice  thought 
now,  to  be  sending  the  motor  cars  after  him  to 
overturn  and  to  crush  him  the  same  as  an  ass-car 
in  their  path. 

Cracked  Mary:  You  can't  save  yourself  from 
a  dog;  he  is  after  his  own  equals,  dogs.  He  is 
doing  every  harm.  They  are  out  night  and  day. 

Shawn  Early:  Sure,  a  mad <. dog  would  go  from 
this  to  Kinvara  in  a  half  a  minute,  like  the  train. 

Cracked  Mary:  He  won't  stay  in  this  country 
down — he  goes  the  straight  road — he  takes  by 
the  wind.  He  is  as  big  as  a  yearling  calf. 

Mrs.  Broderick:  I  would  n't  ever  forgive  myself 
I  to  see  him. 

Cracked  Mary:  He  is  not  very  heavy  yet. 
There  is  only  the  relics  in  him. 

Hyacinth  Halvey:  They  have  a  right  to  bring 
their  rifles  in  their  hand. 

Cracked  Mary:  The  police  is  afraid  of  their 
life.  They  wrote  for  motor  cars  to  follow  him. 
Sure,  he  'd  destroy  the  beasts  of  the  field.  A  milch 
cow,  he  to  grab  at  her,  she  's  settled.  Terrible 


The  Full  Moon  43 

wicked  he  is;  he  's  as  big  as  five  dogs,  and  he  does 
be  very  strong.  I  hope  in  the  Lord  he  '11  be 
caught.  It  will  be  a  blessing  from  the  Almighty 
God  to  kill  that  dog. 

Hyacinth  Halvey:'  He  is  surely  the  one  is 
raging  through  the  street. 

Peter  Tannian:  Why  would  n't  he  be  him? 
Is  it  likely  there  would  be  two  of  them  in*  it  at  the 
one  time? 

Shawn  Early:  A  queer  cut  of  a  dog  he  was; 
a  lurcher,  a  bastard  hound. 

Peter  Tannian:  I  would  say  him  to  be  about 
the  size  of  the  foal  of  a  horse. 

Mrs.  Broderick:  Did  n't  he  behave  well  not 
to  do  ourselves  an  injury? 

Bartley  Fallon:  It  is  likely  he  will  do  great 
destruction.  I  would  n't  say  but  I  felt  the  weight 
of  him  and  his  two  paws  around  my  neck. 

Hyacinth  Halvey:  I  will  go  out  following 
him. 

Shawn  Early:  (Holding  him.}  Oh,  let  you 
not  endanger  yourself!  It  is  the  peelers  should 
go  follow  him,  that  are  armed  with  their  batons 
and  their  guns. 

Hyacinth  Halvey:  I  '11  go.  He  might  do  some 
injury  going  through  the  town. 

Mrs.  Broderick:  Ah  now,  it  is  not  yourself  we 
would  let  go  into  danger!  It  is  Peter  Tannian 
should  go,  if  any  person  should  go. 


44  The  Full  Moon 

Peter  Tannian:  Is  it  Hyacinth  Halvey  you 
are  taking  to  be  so  far  before  myself? 

Mrs.  Broderick:  Why  would  n't  he  be  before 
you? 

Peter  Tannian:  Ask  him  what  was  he  in 
Carrow?  Ask  was  he  a  sort  of  a  corner-boy, 
ringing  the  bell,  pumping  water,  gathering  a  few 
coppers  in  the  daytime  for  to  scatter  on  a  game 
of  cards. 

Hyacinth  Halvey:    Stop  your  lies  and  your  chat ! 

Mrs.  Broderick:  (to  Tannian}  You  are  going 
light  in  the  head  to  talk  that  way. 

Shawn  Early:  He  is,  and  queer  in  the  mind. 
Take  care  did  he  get  a  bite  from  the  dog,  that 
left  some  venom  working  in  his  blood. 

Hyacinth  Halvey:  So  he  might,  and  he  having 
a  sort  of  a  little  rent  in  his  sleeve. 

Peter  Tannian:  I  to  have  got  a  bite  from  the 
dog,  is  it?  I  did  not  come  anear  him  at  all. 
You  to  strip  me  as  bare  as  winter  you  will  not 
find  the  track  of  his  teeth.  It  is  Shawn  Early 
was  nearer  to  him  than  what  I  was. 

Shawn  Early:  I  was  not  nearer,  or  as  near  as 
what  Mrs.  Broderick  was. 

Mrs.  Broderick:  I  made  away  when  I  saw  him. 
My  chest  is  not  the  better  of  it  yet.  Since  I 
left  off  fretting  I  got  gross.  I  am  that  nervous 
I  would  run  from  a  blessed  sheep,  let  alone  a  dog. 

Shawn  Early:    To  see  any  of  the  signs  of  mad- 


The  Full  Moon  45 

ness  upon  him,  it  is  Mr.  Halvey  the  sergeant 
would  look  to  for  to  make  his  report. 

Hyacinth  Halvey:    So  I  would  make  a  report. 

Peter  Tannian:  Is  it  that  you  lay  down  you 
can  see  signs?  Is  that  the  learning  they  were 
giving  you  in  Carrow? 

Mrs.  Broderick:  Don't  be  speaking  with  him 
at  all.  It  is  easy  know  the  signs.  A  person 
to  be  laughing  and  mocking,  and  that  would  not 
have  the  same  habits  with  yourself,  or  to  have 
no  fear  of  things  you  would  be  in  dread  of,  or  to 
be  using  a  different  class  of  food. 

Peter  Tannian:    I  use  no  food  but  clean  food. 

Hyacinth  Halvey:  To  be  giddy  in  the  head  is 
a  sign,  and  to  be  talking  of  things  that  passed 
years  ago. 

Peter  Tannian:  I  am  talking  of  nothing  but 
the  thing  I  have  a  right  to  talk  of. 

Mrs.  Broderick:  To  be  nervous  and  thinking 
and  pausing,  and  playing  with  knicknacks. 

Peter  Tannian:  It  never  was  my  habit  to  be 
playing  with  knicknacks. 

Bartley  Fallon:  When  the  master  in  the  school 
where  I  was  went  queer,  he  beat  me  with  two 
clean  rods,  and  wrote  my  name  with  my  own  blood. 

Mrs.  Broderick:  To  take  the  shoe  off  their 
foot,  and  to  hit  out  right  and  left  with  it,  bawling 
their  life  out,  tearing  their  clothes,  scattering 
and  casting  them  in  every  part;  or  to  run  naked 


46  The  Full  Moon 

through  the  town,  and  all  the  people  after  them. 

Shawn  Early:  To  be  jumping  the  height  of 
trees  they  do  be,  and  all  the  people  striving  to 
slacken  them. 

Hyacinth  Halvey:  To  steal  prayer-books  and 
rosaries,  and  to  be  saying  prayers  they  never 
could  keep  in  mind  before. 

Mrs.  Broderick:  Very  strong,  that  they  could 
leap  a  wall — jumping  and  pushing  and  kicking — 
or  to  tie  people  to  one  another  with  a  rope. 

Shawn  Early:  Any  fear  of  any  person  here 
being  violent,  Mr.  Halvey  will  get  him  put  under 
restraint. 

Peter  Tannian:  Is  it  myself  you  are  thinking 
to  put  under  restraint?  Would  a  man  would  be 
pushing  and  kicking  and  tearing  his  clothes,  be 
able  to  do  arithmetic  on  a  board?  Look  now  at 
that.  (Chalks  figures  on  door.}  Three  and  three 
makes  six! — and  three 

Mrs.  Broderick:  I  'm  no  hand  at  figuring,  but 
I  can  say  out  a  blessed  hymn,  what  any  person 
with  the  mind  gone  contrary  in  them  could  not  do. 
Hearken  now  till  you  '11  know  is  there  confusion 
in  my  mind.  (Sings.} 

Mary  Broderick  is  my  name; 

Fiddane  was  my  station; 
Cloon  is  my  dwelling-place; 

And  (I  hope)  heaven  is  my  destination. 


The  Full  Moon  47 

Mary  Broderick  is  my  name, 
Cloon  was  my 

Cracked  Mary:  (With  a  cackle  of  delight.} 
Give  heed  to  them  now,  Davideen!  That 's  the 
way  the  crazed  people  used  to  be  going  on  in  the 
place  where  I  was,  every  one  thinking  the  other 
to  be  cracked. 

Hyacinth  Halvey:  (To  Tannian.)  Look  now 
at  your  great  figuring!  Argus  with  his  hundred 
eyes  would  n't  know  is  that  a  nought  or  is  it  a 
nine  without  a  tail. 

Peter  Tannian:  Leave  that  blame  on  a  little 
ridge  that  is  in  the  nature  of  the  chalk.  Look 
now  at  Mary  Broderick,  that  it  has  failed  to  word 
out  her  verse. 

Mrs.  Broderick:  Ah,  what  signifies?  I  'd 
never  get  light  greatly.  It  would  n't  be  worth 
while  I  to  go  mad. 

(Bartley  Fatten  gives  a  deep  groan.) 

Shawn  Early:    What  is  on  you,  Bartley? 

Bartley  Fallon:  I  'm  in  dread  it  is  I  myself 
has  got  the  venom  into  my  blood. 

Hyacinth  Halvey:    What  makes  you  think  that? 

Bartley  Fallon:  It 's  a  sort  of  a  thing  would 
be  apt  to  happen  me,  and  any  malice  to  fall  within 
the  town  at  all. 

Mrs.  Broderick:  Give  heed  to  him,  Hyacinth 
Halvey;  you  are  the  most  man  we  have  to 


48  The  Full  Moon 

baffle   any  wrong   thing    coming  in  our  midst! 

Hyacinth  Halvey:  Is  it  that  you  are  feeling 
any  pain  as  of  a  wound  or  a  sore? 

Bartley  Fallon:  Some  sort  of  a  little  catch  I  'm 
thinking  there  is  in  under  my  knee.  I  would  feel 
no  pain  unless  I  would  turn  it  contrary. 

Hyacinth  Halvey:  What  class  of  feeling  would 
you  say  you  are  feeling? 

Bartley  Fallon:  I  am  feeling  as  if  the  five  fingers 
of  my  hand  to  be  lessening  from  me,  the  same  as 
five  farthing  dips  the  heat  of  the  sun  would  be 
sweating  the  tallow  from. 

Hyacinth  Halvey:    That  is  a  strange  account. 

Bartley  Fallon:  And  a  sort  of  a  megrim  in  my 
head,  the  same  as  a  sheep  would  get  a  fit  of 
staggers  in  a  field. 

Hyacinth  Halvey:  That  is  what  I  would  look 
for.  Is  there  some  sort  of  a  roaring  in  your  ear? 

Bartley  Fallon:  There  is,  there  is,  as  if  I  would 
hear  voices  would  be  talking. 

Hyacinth  Halvey:  Would  you  feel  any  wish 
to  go  tearing  and  destroying? 

Bartley  Fallon:  I  would  indeed,  and  there  to 
be  an  enemy  upon  my  path.  Would  you  say 
now,  Widow  Broderick,  am  I  getting  anyway 
flushy  in  the  face? 

Mrs.  Broderick:  Don't  leave  your  eye  off  him 
for  pity's  sake.  He  is  reddening  as  red  as  a  rose. 

Bartley  Fallon:      I    could  as  if  walk  on  the 


The  Full  Moon  49 

wind  with  lightness.  Something  that  is  rising 
in  my  veins  the  same  as  froth  would  be  rising  on 
a  pint. 

Hyacinth  Halvey:  It  is  the  doctor  I  'd  best 
call  for — and  maybe  the  sergeant  and  the  priest. 

Bartley  Fallon:  There  are  three  thoughts  going 
through  my  mind — to  hang  myself  or  to  drown 
myself,  or  to  cut  my  neck  with  a  reaping-hook. 

Mrs.  Broderick:  It  is  the  doctor  will  serve  him 
best,  where  it  is  the  mad  blood  that  should  be 
bled  away.  To  break  up  eggs,  the  white  of  them, 
in  a  tin  can,  will  put  new  blood  in  him,  and  whiskey, 
and  to  taste  no  food  through  twenty-one  days. 

Bartley  Fallon:  I  'm  thinking  so  long  a  fast 
would  n't  serve  me.  I  would  n't  wish  the  lads 
will  bear  my  body  to  the  grave,  to  lay  down  there 
was  nothing  within  it  but  a  grasshopper  or  a  wisp 
of  dry  grass. 

Shawn  Early:  No,  but  to  cut  a  piece  out  of 
his  leg  the  doctor  will,  the  way  the  poison  will 
get  no  leave  to  work. 

Peter  Tannian:  Or  to  burn  it  with  red-hot 
irons,  the  way  it  will  not  scatter  itself  and  grow. 
There  does  a  doctor  do  that  out  in  foreign. 

Mrs.  Broderick:  It  would  be  more  natural  to 
cut  the  leg  off  him  in  some  sort  of  a  Christian  way. 

Shawn  Early:  If  it  was  a  pig  was  bit,  or  a  sow 
or  a  bonav,  it  to  show  the  signs,  it  would  be  shot, 
if  it  was  a  whole  fleet  of  them  was  in  it. 


50  The  Full  Moon 

Mrs.  Broderick:  I  knew  of  a  man  that  was 
butler  in  a  big  house  was  bit,  and  they  tied  him 
first  and  smothered  him  after,  and  his  master 
shot  the  dog.  A  splendid  shot  he  was;  the  thing 
he  'd  not  see  he  'd  hit  it  the  same  as  the  thing  he  'd 
see.  I  heard  that  from  an  outside  neighbour  of 
my  own,  a  woman  that  told  no  lies. 

Shawn  Early:  Sure,  they  did  the  same  thing  to 
a  high-up  lady  over  in  England,  and  she  after 
being  bit  by  her  own  little  spaniel  and  it  having 
a  ring  around  its  neck. 

Peter  Tannian:  That  is  the  only  best  thing  to 
do.  Whether  the  bite  is  from  a  dog,  or  a  cat,  or 
whatever  it  may  be,  to  put  the  quilt  and  the 
blankets  on  the  person  and 'smother  him  in  the 
bed.  To  smother  them  out-and-out  you  should, 
before  the  madness  will  work. 

Hyacinth  Halvey:  I  'd  be  loth  he  to  be  shot 
or  smothered.  I  'd  sooner  to  give  him  a  chance 
in  the  asylum. 

Mrs.  Broderick:  To  keep  him  there  and  to  try 
him  through  three  changes  of  the  moon.  It 's 
well  for  you,  Hartley,  Mr.  Halvey  being  in  charge 
of  you,  that  is  known  to  be  a  tender  man. 

Peter  Tannian:  He  to  have  got  a  bite  and  to 
go  biting  others,  he  would  put  in  them  the  same 
malice.  It  is  the  old  people  used  to  tell  that 
down,  and  they  must  have  had  some  reason 
doing  that. 


The  Full  Moon  51 

Shawn  Early:  To  get  a  bite  of  a  dog  you  must 
chance  your  life.  There  is  no  doubt  at  all  about 
that.  It  might  work  till  the  time  of  the  new 
moon  or  the  full  moon,  and  then  they  must  be 
shot  or  smothered. 

Hyacinth  Halvey:  It  is  a  pity  there  to  be  no 
cure  found  for  it  in  the  world. 

Shawn  Early:  There  never  came  out  from  the 
Almighty  any  cure  for  a  mad  dog. 

(Bariley  Fallon  has  been  edging  towards  door.} 

Shawn  Early:  Oh!  stop  him  and  keep  a  hold 
of  him,  Mr.  Halvey ! 

Hyacinth  Halvey:    Stop  where  you  are. 

Bartley  Fallon:  Is  n't  it  enough  to  have  mad- 
ness before  me,  that  you  will  not  let  me  go  fall  in 
my  own  choice  place? 

Hyacinth  Halvey:  The  neighbours  would  think 
it  bad  of  me  to  let  a  raving  man  out  into  their 
midst. 

Bartley  Fallon:    Is  it  to  shoot  me  you  are  going? 

Hyacinth  Halvey:  I  will  call  to  the  doctor  to 
say  is  the  padded  room  at  the  workhouse  the  most 
place  where  you  will  be  safe,  till  such  time  as  it 
will  be  known  did  the  poison  wear  away. 

Bartley  Fallon:  I  will  not  go  in  it !  It  is  likely 
I  might  be  forgot  in  it,  or  the  nurses  to  be  in  dread 
to  bring  me  nourishment,  and  they  to  hear  me 
barking  within  the  door.  I  'm  thinking  it  was 
allotted  by  nature  I  never  would  die  an  easy  death. 


52  The  Full  Moon 

Hyacinth  Halvey:  I  will  keep  a  watch  over  you 
myself. 

Bartley  Fallon:  Where  's  the  use  of  that  the 
time  the  breath  will  be  gone  out  of  me,  and  you 
maybe  playing  cards  on  my  coffin,  and  I  having 
nothing  around  or  about  me  but  the  shroud,  and 
the  habit,  and  the  little  board? 

Hyacinth  Halvey:  Sure,  I  cannot  leave  you 
the  way  you  are. 

Bartley  Fallon:  It  is  what  I  ever  and  always 
heard,  a  dog  to  bite  you,  all  you  have  to  do  is  to 
take  a  pinch  of  its  hair  and  to  lay  it  into  the  wound. 

Mrs.  Broderick:  So  I  heard  that  myself.  A 
dog  to  bite  any  person  he  is  entitled  to  be  plucked 
of  his  hair. 

Hyacinth  Halvey:  I  '11  go  out;  I  might  chance 
to  see  him. 

Mrs.  Broderick:  You  will  not,  without  getting 
advice  from  the  priest  that  is  coming  in  the  train. 
Let  his  Reverence  come  into  this  place,  and  say  is 
it  Bartley  or  is  it  Peter  Tannian  was  done  de- 
struction on  by  the  dog. 

Shawn  Early:    There  is  a  surer  way  than  that. 

Mrs.  Broderick:    What  way? 

Shawn  Early:  It  takes  madness  to  find  out 
madness.  Let  you  call  to  the  cracked  woman 
that  should  know. 

Hyacinth  Halvey:  Come  hither,  Mary,  and  tell 
us  is  there  any  one  of  your  own  sort  in  this  shed? 


The  Full  Moon  53 

Mrs.  Broderick:  That  is  a  good  thought.  It 
is  only  themselves  that  recognise  one  another. 

Bartley  Fallon:  Do  not  ask  her!  I  will  not 
leave  it  to  her ! 

Mrs.  Broderick:  Sure,  she  cannot  say  more 
than  what  yourself  has  said  against  yourself. 

Bartley  Fallon:  I  'm  in  dread  she  might  know 
too  much,  and  be  telling  out  what  is  within  in  my 
mind. 

Hyacinth  Halvey:  That 's  foolishness.  These 
are  not  the  ancient  times,  when  Ireland  was  full 
of  haunted  people. 

Bartley  Fallon:  Is  a  man  having  a  wife  and 
three  acres  of  land  to  be  put  under  the  judgment 
of  a  witch? 

Hyacinth  Halvey:  I  would  not  give  in  to  any 
pagan  thing,  but  to  recognise  one  of  her  own  sort, 
that  is  a  thing  can  be  understood. 

Mrs.  Broderick:  So  it  could  be  too,  the  same 
as  witnesses  in  a  court. 

Bartley  Fallon:  I  will  not  give  in  to  going  to 
demons  or  druids  or  freemasons !  Was  n't  there 
enough  of  misfortune  set  before  my  path  through 
every  day  of  my  lifetime  without  it  to  be  linked 
with  me  after  my  death?  Is  it  that  you  would 
force  me  to  lose  the  comforts  of  heaven  and  to 
get  the  poverty  of  hell?  I  tell  you  I  will  have  no 
trade  with  witches!  I  would  sooner  go  face  the 
featherbeds. 


54  The  Full  Moon 

Hyacinth  Halvey:  Say  out,  girl,  do  you  see 
any  craziness  here  or  anything  of  the  sort? 

Cracked  Mary:  Every  day  in  the  year  there 
comes  some  malice  into  the  world,  and  where  it 
comes  from  is  no  good  place. 

Mrs.  Broderick:  That  is  it,  a  venomous  dew, 
as  in  the  year  of  the  famine.  There  is  no  as- 
tronomer can  say  it  is  from  the  earth  or  the  sky. 

Hyacinth  Halvey:  It  is  what  we  are  asking  you, 
did  any  of  that  malice  get  its  scope  in  this  place  ? 

Cracked  Mary:  That  was  settled  in  Mayo  two 
thousand  years  ago. 

Mrs.  Broderick:  Ah,  there  's  no  head  or  tail 
to  that  one's  story.  You  'd  be  left  at  the  latter 
end  the  same  as  at  the  commencement. 

Hyacinth  Halvey:  That  dog  you  were  talking 
of,  that  is  raging  through  the  district  and  the 
town — did  it  leave  any  madness  after  it? 

Cracked  Mary:  It  will  go  in  the  wind,  there  is 
a  certain  time  for  that.  It  might  go  off  in  the 
wind  again.  It  might  go  shaping  off  and  do  no 
harm. 

Bartley  Fallon:  Where  is  that  dog  presently, 
till  some  person  might  go  pluck  out  a  few  ribs 
of  its  hair? 

Cracked  Mary:  Raging  ever  and  always  it  is, 
raging  wild.  Sure,  that  is  a  dog  was  in  it  before 
the  foundations  of  the  world. 

Peter  Tannian:    Who  is  it  now  that  venom  fell 


The  Full  Moon  55 

on,  whatever  beast's  jaws  may  have  scattered 
it? 

Cracked  Mary:  It  is  the  full  moon  knows  that. 
The  moon  to  slacken  it  is  safe,  there  is  no  harm 
in  it.  Almighty  God  will  do  that  much.  He  '11 
slacken  it  like  you  'd  slacken  lime. 

Shawn  Early:  There  is  reason  in  what  she  is 
saying.  Set  open  the  door  and  let  the  full  moon 
call  its  own! 

Bartley  Fallon:  Don't  let  in  the  rays  of  it 
upon  us  or  I  'm  a  gone  man.  It  to  shine  on  them 
that  are  going  wrong  hi  the  head,  it  would  raise 
a  great  stir  in  the  mind.  Sure,  it 's  in  the  asylum 
at  that  time  they  do  have  whips  to  chastise  them. 
(Goes  to  corner.} 

Cracked  Mary:  That 's  it.  The  moon  is  ter- 
rible. The  full  moon  cracks  them  out  and  out, 
any  one  that  would  have  any  spleen  or  any  relics 
in  them. 

Mrs.  Broderick:  Do  not  let  in  the  light  of  it. 
I  would  scruple  to  look  at  it  myself. 

Cracked  Mary:  Let  you  throw  open  the  door, 
Davideen.  It  is  not  ourselves  are  in  dread  that 
the  white  man  in  the  sky  will  be  calling  names 
after  us  and  ridiculing  us.  Ha!  ha!  I  might 
be  as  foolish  as  yourselves  and  as  fearful,  but  for 
the  Almighty  that  left  a  little  cleft  in  my  skull, 
that  would  let  in  His  candle  through  the  night 
time. 


56  The  Full  Moon 

Hyacinth  Halvey:  Hurry  on  now,  tell  us  is 
there  any  one  in  this  place  is  wild  and  astray  like 
yourself. 

(He  opens  the  door.     The  light  falls  on  him.) 

Cracked  Mary:  (Putting  her  hand  on  him.) 
There  was  great  shouting  in  the  big  round  house, 
and  you  coming  into  it  last  night. 

Hyacinth  Halvey:  What  are  you  saying?  I 
never  went  frolicking  in  the  night  time  since  the 
day  I  came  into  Cloon. 

Cracked  Mary:  We  were  talking  of  it  a  while 
ago.  I  knew  you  by  the  smile  and  by  the  laugh 
of  you.  A  queen  having  a  yellow  dress,  and  the 
hair  on  her  smooth  like  marble.  All  the  dead  of 
the  village  were  in  it,  and  of  the.  living  myself  and 
yourself. 

Hyacinth  Halvey:  I  thought  it  was  of  Carrow 
she  was  talking;  it  is  of  the  other  world  she  is 
raving,  and  of  the  shadow-shapes  of  the  forth. 

Cracked  Mary:  You  have  the  door  open — 
the  speckled  horses  are  on  the  road ! — make  a  leap 
on  the  horse  as  it  goes  by,  the  horse  that  is  without 
a  rider.  Can't  you  hear  them  puffing  and  roaring  ? 
Their  breath  is  like  a  fog  upon  the  air. 

Hyacinth  Halvey:  What  you  hear  is  but  the 
train  puffing  afar  off. 

Cracked  Mary:  Make  a  snap  at  the  bridle  as  it 
passes  by  the  bush  in  the  western  gap.  Run  out 
now,  run,  where  you  have  the  bare  ridge  of  the 


The  Full  Moon  57 

world  before  you,  and  no  one  to  take  orders  from 
but  yourself,  maybe,  and  God. 

Hyacinth  Halvey:  Ah,  what  way  can  I  run  to 
any  place! 

Cracked  Mary:  Stop  where  you  are,  so.  In 
my  opinion  it  is  little  difference  the  moon  can 
see  between  the  whole  of  ye.  Come  on,  Davideen, 
come  out  now,  we  have  the  wideness  of  the  night 
before  us.  O  golden  God !  All  bad  things  quieten 
in  the  night  time,  and  the  ugly  thing  itself  will 
put  on  some  sort  of  a  decent  face!  Come  out 
now  to  the  night  that  will  give  you  the  song,  and 
will  show  myself  out  as  beautiful  as  Helen  of  the 
Greek  gods,  that  hanged  herself  the  day  there 
first  came  a  wrinkle  on  her  face ! 

Davideen:  (Coming  close,  and  taking  her  hand 
as  he  sings.} 

Oh !  don't  you  remember 
What  our  comrades  called  to  us 
And  they  footing  steps 
At  the  call  of  the  moon? 
Come  out  to  the  rushes, 
Come  out  to  the  bushes, 
Where  the  music  is  called 
By  the  lads  of  Queen  Anne! 

(They  look  beautiful.     They  dance  and  sing 

in  perfect  time  as  they  go  out.} 
Peter  Tannian:     (Closing  the  door,  and  pointing 


58  The  Full  Moon 

at  Hyacinth,  who  stands  gazing  after  them,  and  when 
the  door  is  shut  sits  down  thinking  deeply.)  It  is 
on  him  her  judgment  fell,  and  a  clear  judgment. 

Shawn  Early:  She  gave  out  that  award  fair 
enough. 

Peter  Tannian:  Did  you  take  notice,  and  he 
coming  into  the  shed,  he  had  like  some  sort  of  a 
little  twist  in  his  walk? 

Mrs.  Broderick:  I  would  be  loth  to  think  there 
would  be  any  poison  lurking  in  his  veins.  Where 
now  would  it  come  from,  and  Cracked  Mary's 
dog  being  as  good  as  no  dog  at  all? 

Peter  Tannian:  It  might  chance,  and  he  a 
child  in  the  cradle,  to  get  the  bite  of  a  dog.  It 
might  be  only  now,  its  full  time  being  come,  its 
power  would  begin  to  work. 

Mrs.  Broderick:  So  it  would  too,  and  he  but 
to  see  the  shadow  of  the  dog  bit  him  in  a  body 
glass,  or  in  the  waves,  and  he  himself  looking 
over  a  boat,  and  as  if  called  to  throw  himself  in 
the  tide.  But  I  would  not  have  thought  it  of  Mr. 
Halvey.  Well,  it 's  as  hard  to  know  what  might 
be  spreading  abroad  in  any  person's  mind,  as  to 
put  the  body  of  a  horse  out  through  a  cambric 
needle.  (Hyacinth  looks  at  them.) 

Shawn  Early:  Be  quiet  now,  he  is  going  to  say 
some  word. 

Hyacinth  Halvey:  There  is  a  thought  in  my 
mind.  I  think  it  was  coming  this  good  while. 


The  Full  Moon  59 

Shawn  Early:    Whisht  now  and  listen. 

Hyacinth  Halvey:  I  made  a  great  mistake 
coming  into  this  place. 

Peter  Tannian:  There  was  some  mistake  made 
anyway. 

Hyacinth:  It  is  foolishness  kept  me  in  it  ever 
since.  It  is  too  big  a  name  was  put  upon  me. 

Peter  Tannian:  It  is  the  power  of  the  moon  is 
forcing  the  truth  out  of  him. 

Hyacinth  Halvey:  Every  person  in  the  town 
giving  me  out  for  more  than  I  am.  I  got  too 
much  of  that  in  the  heel. 

Shawn  Early:    He  is  talking  queer  now  anyway. 

Hyacinth  Halvey:  Calling  to  me  every  little 
minute — expecting  me  to  do  this  thing  and  that 
thing — watching  me  the  same  as  a  watchdog, 
their  eyes  as  if  fixed  upon  my  face. 

Mrs.  Broderick:  To  be  giving  out  such  strange 
thoughts,  he  has  n't  much  brains  left  around 
him. 

Hyacinth  Halvey:  I  looking  to  be  Clerk  of  the 
Union,  and  the  place  I  had  giving  me  enough  to 
do,  and  too  much  to  do.  Tied  on  this  side,  tied 
on  that  side.  I  to  be  bothered  with  business 
through  the  holy  livelong  day! 

Peter  Tannian:  It  is  good  pay  he  got  with  it. 
Eighty  pounds  a  year  does  n't  come  on  the  wind. 

Hyacinth  Halvey:  In  danger  to  be  linked  and 
wed — I  never  ambitioned  it — with  a  woman 


60  The  Full  Moon 

would  want  me  to  be  earning  through  every  day 
of  the  year. 

Shawn  Early:    He  is  a  gone  man  surely. 

Hyacinth  Halvey:  The  wide  ridge  of  the  world 
before  me,  and  to  have  no  one  to  look  to  for 
orders ;  that  would  be  better  than  roast  and  boiled 
and  all  the  comforts  of  the  day.  I  declare  to 
goodness,  and  I  'd  nearly  take  my  oath,  I  'd 
sooner  be  among  a  fleet  of  tinkers,  than  attending 
meetings  of  the  Board ! 

Mrs.  Broderick:  If  there  are  fairies  in  it,  it 
is  in  the  fairies  he  is. 

Peter  Tannian:    Give  me  a  hold  of  that  chain. 

Mrs.  Broderick:    What  is  it  you  are  about  to  do  ? 

Peter  Tannian:    To  bind  him  to  the  chair  I  will 

before  he  will  burst  out  wild  mad.     Come  over 

here,  Bartley  Fallon,  and  lend  a  hand  if  you  can. 

(Bartley  Fallon  appears  from  corner  with  a 

chicken  crate  over  his  head.} 

Mrs.  Broderick:  O  Bartley,  that  is  the  strangest 
lightness  ever  I  saw,  to  go  bind  a  chicken  crate 
around  your  skull ! 

Bartley  Fallon:  Will  you  tighten  the  knots  I 
have  tied,  Peter  Tannian!  I  am  in  dread  they 
might  slacken  or  fail. 

Shawn  Early:  Was  there  ever  seen  before  this 
night  such  power  to  be  in  the  moon ! 

Bartley  Fallon:  It  would  seem  to  be  putting 
very  wild  unruly  thoughts  a-through  me,  stirring 


The  Full  LMoon  61 

up  whatever  spleen  or  whatever  relics  was  left 
in  me  by  the  nature  of  the  dog. 

Peter  Tannian:  Is  it  that  you  think  those  rods, 
spaced  wide,  as  they  are,  will  keep  out  the  moon 
from  entering  your  brain? 

Bartley  Fallon:  There  does  great  strength 
come  at  the  time  the  wrts  would  be  driven  out  of 
a  person.  I  never  was  handled  by  a  policeman — 
but  once — and  never  hit  a  blow  on  any  man.  I 
would  not  wish  to  destroy  my  neighbour  or  to 
have  his  blood  on  my  hands. 

Shawn  Early:    It  is  best  keep  out  of  his  reach. 

Bartley  Fallon:  The  way  I  have  this  fixed, 
there  is  no  person  will  be  the  worse  for  me.  I  to 
rush  down  the  street  and  to  meet  with  my  most 
enemy  in  some  lonesome  craggy  place,  it  would 
fail  me,  and  I  thrusting  for  it  to  scatter  any  share 
of  poison  in  his  body  or  to  sink  my  teeth  in  his 
skin.  I  would  n't  wonder  I  to  have  hung  for 
some  of  you,  and  that  plan  not  to  have  come  into 
my  head. 

(Whistle  of  train  heard.) 

Hyacinth  Halvey:  (Getting  up.)  I  have  my  mind 
made  up,  I  am  going  out  of  this  on  that  train. 

Peter  Tannian:  You  are  not  going  so  easy  as 
what  you  think. 

Hyacinth  Halvey:  Let  you  mind  your  own 
business. 

Peter  Tannian:    I  am  well  able  to  mind  it. 


62  The  Full  Moon 

Hyacinth  Halvey:  (Throwing  off  top-coat.)  You 
cannot  keep  me  here. 

Peter  Tannian:    Give  me  a  hand  with  the  chain. 
(They  throw  it  round  Hyacinth  and  hold 
him.} 

Hyacinth  Halvey:  Is  it  out  of  your  senses  you 
are  gone? 

Peter  Tannian:  Not  at  all,  but  yourself  that 
is  gone  raving  mad  from  the  fury  and  the  strength 
of  some  dog. 

Miss  Joyce:  (At  door.}  Are  you  there,  Hya- 
cinth Halvey?  The  train  is  in.  Come  forward 
now,  and  give  a  welcome  to  his  Reverence. 

Hyacinth  Halvey:    Let  me  go  out  of  this ! 

Miss  Joyce:  You  are  near  late  as  it  is.  The 
train  is  about  to  start. 

Hyacinth  Halvey:  Let  me  go,  or  I  '11  tear  the 
heart  out  of  ye ! 

Shawn  Early:    Oh,  he  is  stark,  staring  mad ! 

Hyacinth  Halvey:  Mad,  am  I?  Bit  by  a  dog, 
am  I?  You  '11  see  am  I  mad!  I  '11  show  mad- 
ness to  you!  Let  go  your  hold  or  I  '11  skin  you! 
I  '11  destroy  you!  I  '11  bite  you!  I  'm  a  red 
enemy  to  the  whole  of  you !  Leave  go  your  grip ! 
Yes,  I  'm  mad !  Bow  wow  wow,  wow  wow ! 

(They  let  go  and  fall  back  in  terror,  and  he 
rushes  out  of  the  door.} 

Miss  Joyce:  What  at  all  has  happened? 
Where  is  he  gone? 


The  Full  Moon  63 

Shawn  Early:  To  the  train  he  is  gone,  and  away 
in  it  he  is  gone. 

Miss  Joyce:  He  gave  some  sort  of  a  bark  or  a 
howl. 

Shawn  Early:  He  is  gone  clean  mad.  Great 
arguing  he  had,  and  leaping  and  roaring. 

Bariley  Fallon:  (Taking  off  crate.}  He  went 
very  near  to  tear  us  all  asunder.  I  declare  I 
am  n't  worth  a  match. 

Mrs.  Broderick:  He  made  a  reel  in  my  head, 
till  I  don't  know  am  I  right  myself. 

Shawn  Early:  Bawling  his  life  out,  tearing 
his  clothes,  tearing  and  eating  them.  Look  at 
his  top-coat  he  left  after  him. 

Bartley  Fallon:  He  poured  all  over  with  pure 
white  foam. 

Peter  Tannian:  There  now  is  an  end  of  your 
elegant  man. 

Shawn  Early:  Bit  he  was  with  the  mad  dog 
that  went  tearing,  and  lads  chasing  him  a  while 
ago. 

Miss  Joyce:  Sure  that  was  Tannian's  own  dog, 
that  had  a  bit  of  meat  snapped  from  Quirke's 
ass-car.  He  is  without  this  door  now.  (All 
look  out.}  He  has  the  appearance  of  having  a 
full  meal  taken. 

Bartley  Fallon:  And  they  to  be  saying  I  went 
mad.  That  is  the  way  always,  and  a  thing  to 
be  tasked  to  me  that  was  not  in  it  at  all. 


64  The  Full  Moon 

Mrs.  Broderick:  (Laying  her  hand  on  Miss 
Joyce's  shoulder.)  Take  comfort  now;  and  if  it 
was  the  moon  done  all,  and  has  your  bachelor 
swept,  let  you  not  begrudge  it  its  full  share  of 
praise  for  the  hand  it  had  in  banishing  a  strange 
bird,  might  have  gone  wild  and  bawling  like  eleven, 
and  you  after  being  wed  with  him,  and  would 
maybe  have  put  a  match  to  the  roof.  And 
had  n't  you  the  luck  of  the  world  now,  that  you 
did  not  give  notice  to  the  priest ! 

Curtain 


COATS 


Hazel  .  .  .  EDITOR  OF  "CHAMPION" 
Mineog  .  .  .  EDITOR  OF  "  TRIBUNE  " 
John  A  WAITER 


66 


COATS 
Scene:    Dining  room  of  Royal  Hotel  Cloonmore. 

Hazel:  (Coming  in.)  Did  Mr.  Mineog  come 
yet,  John? 

John:  He  did  not,  Mr.  Hazel.  Ah,  he  won't 
be  long  coming.  It 's  seldom  he  does  be  late. 

Hazel:    Is  the  dinner  ready? 

John:  It  is,  sir.  Boiled  beef  and  parsnips, 
the  same  as  every  Monday  for  all  comers,  and  an 
apple  pie  for  yourself  and  Mr.  Mineog. 

Mineog:  (Coming  in.)  Mr.  Hazel  is  the  first 
to-night.  I  'm  glad  to  see  you  looking  so  good. 

( They  take  off  coats  and  give  to  waiter.) 

Mineog:    Put  that  on  its  own  peg. 

Hazel:    And  mine  on  its  own  peg  to  the  rear. 

John:  I  will,  sir.  (He  drops  coats  in  putting 
them  up.  Then  notices  broken  pane  in  window  and 
picks  up  the  coats  hurriedly,  putting  them  on  wrong 
pegs.  Hazel  and  Mineog  have  sat  down.) 

Hazel:    Have  you  any  strange  news? 

Mineog:    I  have  but  the  same  news  I  always 

have,  that  it  is  quick  Monday  comes  around,  and 

that  it  is  hard  make  provision  for  to  fill  up  the 

four  sheets  of  the  Tribune,  and  nothing  happen- 

-  67 


68  Coats 

ing  in  these  parts  worth  while.  There  would  seem 
to  be  no  news  on  this  day  beyond  all  days  of  the 
year. 

Hazel:  Sure  there  is  the  same  care  and  the 
same  burden  on  myself.  I  wish  I  did  n't  put  a 
supplement  to  the  Champion.  The  deer  knows 
what  way  will  I  fill  it  between  this  and  Thursday, 
or  in  what  place  I  can  go  questing  after  news ! 

Mineog:  Last  week  passed  without  anything 
doing.  It  is  a  very  backward  place  to  give 
information  for  two  papers.  If  it  was  not  for 
the  league  is  between  us,  and  for  us  meeting  here 
on  every  Monday  to  make  sure  we  are  taking 
different  sides  on  every  question  may  turn  up, 
and  giving  every  abuse  to  one  another  in  print, 
there  is  no  person  would  pay  his  penny  for  the 
two  of  them,  or  it  may  be  for  the  one  of  them. 

Hazel:  That  is  so.  And  the  worst  is,  there 
is  no  question  ever  rises  that  we  do  not  agree  on, 
or  that  would  have  power  to  make  us  fall  out  in 
earnest.  It  was  different  in  my  early  time.  The 
questions  used  to  rise  up  then  were  worth  fighting 
for. 

Mineog:  There  are  some  people  so  cantanker- 
ous they  will  heat  themselves  in  argument  as 
to  which  side  might  be  right  or  wrong  in  a  war,  or 
if  wars  should  be  in  it  at  all,  or  hangings. 

Hazel:  Ah,  when  they  are  as  long  on  the  road 
as  we  are,  they  '11  take  things  easy. 


Coats  69 

Mineog:  Now  all  the  kingdoms  of  the  earth 
to  go  struggling  on  one  wrong  side  or  another,  or 
to  bring  themselves  down  to  dust  and  ashes,  it 
would  not  break  our  friendship.  In  all  the  years 
past  there  never  did  a  cross  word  rise  between  us. 

Hazel:  There  never  will.  What  are  the  fights  of 
politics  and  parties  beside  living  neighbourly  with 
one  another,  and  to  go  peaceable  to  the  grave,  our 
selves  that  are  the  oldest  residents  in  the  Square. 

Mineog:  It  will  be  long  indeed  before  you  will 
be  followed  to  the  grave.  You  did  n't  live  no 
length  yet.  You  are  too  fresh  to  go  out  and  to 
forsake  your  wife  and  your  family. 

Hazel:  Ah,  when  the  age  would  be  getting  up 
on  you,  you  would  n't  be  getting  younger.  But 
it 's  yourself  that  is  as  full  of  spirit  as  a  four- year- 
old.  I  wish  I  had  a  sovereign  for  every  year  you 
will  reign  after  me  in  the  Square. 

Mineog:  (Sneezes.}  There  is  a  draught  of 
air  coming  in  the  window. 

Hazel:  (Rising.)  Take  care  might  it  be  open 
— no,  but  a  pane  that  is  out.  There  is  a  very 
chilly  breeze  sweeping  in. 

Mineog:  (Rising.)  I  will  put  on  my  coat  so. 
There  is  no  use  giving  provocation  to  a  cold. 

Hazel:  I  '11  do  the  same  myself.  It  is  hard 
to  banish  a  sore  throat. 

(They  put  on  coats.    John  brings  in  dinner. 
They  sit  down.) 


70  Coats 

Mineog:  See  can  you  baffle  that  draught  of 
air,  John. 

John:  I  '11  go  in  search  of  something  to  stop 
it,  sir.  This  bit  of  a  board  I  brought  is  too 
unshapely. 

Mineog:  Two  columns 'of  the  Tribune  as  empty 
yet  as  anything  you  could  see.  I  had  them  kept 
free  for  the  Bishop's  speech  and  he  did  n't  come 
after.  ' 

Hazel:  That 's  the  same  cause  has  left  myself 
with  so  wide  a  gap. 

Mineog:  In  the  years  past  there  used  always 
to  be  something  happening  such  as  famines,  or 
the  invention  of  printing.  The  whole  world  has 
got  very  slack.  , 

Hazel:  You  are  a  better  hand  than  what  I  am 
at  filling  odd  spaces  would  be  left  bare.  It  is 
often  I  think  the  news  you  put  out  comes  partly 
from  your  own  brain,  and  the  prophecies  you  lay 
down  about  the  weather  and  the  crops. 

Mineog:  Ah,  I  might  stick  in  a  bit  of  invention 
sometimes,  when  I  'm  put  to  the  pin  of  my  collar. 

Hazel:  I  might  maybe  make  an  attack  on  the 
Tribune  for  that. 

Mineog:  Ah,  what  is  it  but  a  white  sin.  Sure 
it  tells  every  person  the  same  thing.  It  does  n't 
tell  many  lies,  it  goes  somewhere  anear  it^ 

Hazel:  I  spent  a  good  while  this  evening 
searching  through  the  shelves  of  the  press  I  have 


Coats  71 

in  the  office.  I  write  an  article  an  odd  time,  when 
there  is  nothing  doing,  that  might  come  handy  in  a 
hurry. 

Mineog:  So  have  I  a  press  of  the  sort,  and 
shelves  in  it.  I  am  after  going  through  them 
to-day.  \ 

Hazel:  But  it 's  hard  find  a  thing  would  be 
suitable,  unless  you  might  dress  it  up  again 
someway  fresh. 

Mineog:  I  made  a  thought  and  I  searching  a 
while  ago.  I  was  thinking  it  would  be  a  very- 
nice  thing  to  show  respect 'to  yourself,  and  friend- 
liness, putting  down  a  short  account  of  you  and  of 
all  you  have  done  for  your  family  and  for  the  town. 

Hazel:  That  is  -a  strange  thing  now!  I  had 
it  in  my  mind  to  do  the  very  same  service  to 
yourself. 

Mineog:    Is  that  so? 

Hazel:  Your, worth  and  your  generosity  and 
the  way  you  have  worked  the  Tribune  for  your 
own  arid  for  the  public  good. 

Mineog:  And  another  thing.  I  not  only 
thought  to  write  it  but  I  am  after  writing  it. 

Hazel:  (Suspiciously.}  You  had  not  much 
time  for  that. 

Mineog:  I  never  was  one  to  spare  myself  in 
anything  that, could  benefit  a  friend. 

Hazel:  Neither  would  I  spare  myself.  I  have 
my  article  wrote. 


72  Coats 

Mineog:  I  have  a  mind  to  read  my  own  one  to 
you,  the  way  you  will  know  there  is  nothing  in  it 
but  what  is  friendly  and  is  kind. 

Hazel:  I  will  do  the  same  thing.  There 's 
nothing  I  have  said  in  it  but  what  you  will  like 
to  be  hearing. 

Mineog:  (Who  has  rummaged  pockets.)  I 

thought  I  put  it  in  the  inside  pocket  no 

matter — here  it  is. 

Hazel:  (Rummaging.)  Here  is  my  one.  I 
was  thinking  I  had  it  lost. 

Mineog:  (Reading,  after  he  has  turned  over  a 
couple  of  sheets  rapidly.)  "Born  and  bred  in 
this  Square,  he  took  his  chief  pride  in  his  native 
town." 

Hazel:  (Turning  over  two  sheets.)  "It  was  in 
this  parish  and  district  he  spent  the  most  part  of 

his  promising  youth Richly  stored  with 

world-wide  knowledge." 

Mineog:  "Well  able  to  give  out  an  opinion 
on  any  matter  at  all." 

Hazel:  "To  lay  down  his  mind  on  paper  it 
would  be  hard  to  beat  him." 

Mineog:  "With  all  that,  humble  that  he  would 

halt  and  speak  to  you  the  same  as  a  child  " 

I  'm  maybe  putting  it  down  a  bit  too  simple,  but 
the  printer  will  give  it  a  little  shaping  after. 

Hazel:  So  will  my  own  printer  be  lengthening 
out  the  words  for  me  according  to  the  type  and 


Coats  73 

the  letters  of  the  alphabet  he  will  have  plentiful 
and  to  spare. 

Mineog:  "Well  looking  and  well  thought  of. 
A  true  Irishman  in  supporting  all  forms  of  sport." 

Hazel:  What 's  that?  I  never  was  one  for 
betting  on  races  or  gaining  prizes  for  riddles. 

Mineog:  It  is  strange  now  I  have  no  recollec- 
tion of  putting  that  down.  It  is  I  myself  in  the 
days  gone  by  would  put  an  odd  shilling  on  a  horse. 

Hazel:  These  typewriters  would  bother  the 
world.  Wait  now — let  me  throw  an  eye  on  those 
papers  you  have  in  your  hand. 

Mineog:  Not  at  all.  I  would  sooner  be  giving 
it  out  to  you  myself. 

Hazel:  Of  course  it  is  very  pleasing  to  be 
listening  to  so  nice  an  account — but  lend  it  a 
minute.  (Puts  out  hand.} 

Mineog:  Bring  me  now  a  bottle  of  wine,  John 
— you  know  the  sort — till  I  '11  drink  to  Mr. 
Hazel's  good  health. 

John:    I  will,  sir. 

Hazel:  No,  but  bring  it  at  my  own  expense 
till  I  will  drink  to  Mr.  Mineog.  Just  give  me  a 
hold  of  that  paper  for  one  minute  only. 

Mineog:  Keep  patience  now.  I  will  go  through 
it  with  no  delay. 

Hazel:    (Making  a  snap.}    Just  for  one  minute. 

Mineog:  (Clapping  his  hand  on  it.}  What  a 
hurry  you  are  in!  Stop  now  till  I  '11  find  the 


74  Coats 

place.  "  Very  rarely  indeed  has  been  met  with  so 
fair  and  so  neighbourly  a  man." 

Hazel:    Give  me  a  look  at  it. 

Mineog:  What  is  it  ails  you?  You  are  uneasy 
about  something.  What  is  it  you  are  hiding  from 
me?  I 

Hazel:  What  would  I  have  to  hide  but  that 
the  papers  got  mixed  in  some  way,  and  you  have 
in  your  hand  what  I  wrote  about  yourself,  and 
not  what  you  wrote  about  myself? 

Mineog:  What  way  did  they  get  into  the  wrong 
pocket  now? 

Hazel:  (Putting  MS.  in  his  pocket.}  Give  me 
back  my  own  and  I  will  give  you  back  your  own. 

Mineog:  I  don't  know.  Ypu  are  putting  it 
in  my  mind  there  might  be  something  underhand. 
I  would  like  to  make  sure  what  did  you  say  about 
me  in  the  heel.  (Turns  over.)  "He  was  honest 
and  widely  respected."  Was  honest — are  you 
saying  me  to  be  a  rogue  at  this  time? 

Hazel:  That 's  not  fair  dealing  to  be  searching 
through  it  against  my  will. 

Mineog:  "He  was  trusted  through  the  whole 
townland."  Was  trusted — is  it  that  you  are 
making  me  out  to  be  a  thief? 

Hazel:  Well,  follow  your  own  road  and  take 
your  own  way. 

Mineog:  " Mr.  Mineog  leaves  no  family 

to  lament  his  loss,  but  along  with  the  Tribune, 


Coats  75 

which  he  fostered  with  the  care  of  a  father,  we 
offer  up  prayers  for  the  repose  of  his  soul." 
(Stands  up.}  It  is  a  notice  of  my  death  you  are 
after  writing! 

Hazel:    You  should  understand  that. 

Mineog:  An  obituary  notice!  Of  myself!  Is 
it  that  you  expect  me  to  quit  the  living  world 
between  this  and  Thursday? 

Hazel:    I  had  no  thought  of  the  kind. 

Mineog:  I  'm  not  stretched  yet!  What  call 
have  you  to  go  offer  prayers  for  me? 

Hazel:  I  tell  you  I  had  it  put  by  this  long  time 
till  I  would  have  occasion  to  use  it. 

Mineog:  Is  it  this  long  time,  so,  you  have  been 
waiting  for  my  death? 

Hazel:    Not  at  all. 

Mineog:  You  to  kill  me  to-day  and  to  think 
to  bury  me  to-morrow ! 

Hazel:  Can't  you  listen?  I  was  wanting  some- 
thing to  fill  space. 

Mineog:  Would  nothing  serve  you  to  fill  space 
but  only  my  own  corpse?  To  go  set  my  coffin 
making  and  to  put  nettles  growing  on  my  hearth ! 
Would  n't  it  be  enough  to  rob  my  house  or  to 
make  an  attack  upon  my  means?  Would  n't 
that  fill  up  the  gap? 

Hazel:    Let  you  not  twist  it  that  way ! 

Mineog:  The  time  I  was  "in  the  face  of  my  little 
dinner  to  go  startle  me  with  a  thing  of  the  sort! 


76  Coats 

I  'm  not  worth  the  ground  I  stand  on!  For  the 
Champion  of  next  Thursday!  I  to  be  dead  ere 
Thursday! 

Hazel:    I  looked  for  no  such  thing. 

Mineog:  What  is  it  makes  you  say  me  to  be 
done  and  dying?  Am  I  reduced  in  the  face? 

Hazel:    You  are  not. 

Mineog:    Am  I  yellow  and  pale  and  shrunken? 

Hazel:    Why  would  you  be? 

Mineog:  Would  you  say  me  to  be  crampy  in 
the  body?  Am  I  staggery  in  the  legs? 

Hazel:    I  see  no  such  signs. 

Mineog:  Is  it  in  my  hand  you  see  them?  Is 
it  lame  or  is  it  freezed-brittle  like  ice? 

Hazel:    It  is  as  warm  and  as  good  as  my  own. 

Mineog:  Let  me  take  a  hold  of  you  till  you 
will  tell  me  has  it  the  feel  of  a  dead  man's  grip. 

Hazel:    I  know  that  it  has  not. 

Mineog:  Is  it  shaking  like  a  bunch  of  timber 
shavings? 

Hazel:    Not  at  all,  not  at  all. 

Mineog:  It  should  be  my  hearing  that  is 
failing  from  me,  or  that  I  am  crippled  and  have 
lost  my  walk. 

Hazel:  You  are  roaring  and  bawling  without 
sense. 

Mineog:  Let  the  Champion  go  to  flitters 
before  I  will  die  to  please  it !  I  will  not  give  in  to 
it  driving  me  out  of  the  world  before  my  hour  is 


Coats  77 

spent !  It  would  hardly  ask  that  of  a  man  would 
be  of  no  use  and  no  account,  or  even  of  a  beast  of 
any  consequence. 

Hazel:    Who  is  asking  you  to  die? 

Mineog:  Giving  no  time  hardly  for  the  priest 
to  overtake  me  and  to  give  me  the  rites  of  the 
Church! 

Hazel:  I  tell  you  there  is  no  danger  of  you 
giving  up  at  all !  Every  person  knows  there  must 
some  sickness  come  before  death.  Some  take 
it  from  a  neighbour  and  it  is  put  on  others  by  God. 

Mineog:    Even  so,  it 's  hard  say. 

Hazel:  You  have  not  a  ha'p'orth  on  you.  No 
complaint  in  the  world  wide. 

Mineog:  That 's  nothing !  Sickness  comes  upon 
some  as  sudden  as  to  clap  their  hands. 

Hazel:  What  are  you  talking  about?  You  are 
thinking  us  to  be  in  the  days  of  the  cholera  yet! 

Mineog:  There  are  yet  other  diseases  besides 
that. 

Hazel:  You  put  the  measles  over  you  and  we 
going  the  road  to  school. 

Mineog:  There  is  more  than  measles  has  power 
bring  a  man  down. 

Hazel:  You  had  the  chin-cough  passed  and  you 
rising.  We  were  cut  at  the  one  time  for  the  pock. 

Mineog:  A  disease  to  be  allotted  to  you  it 
would  find  you  out,  and  you  maybe  up  twenty 
mile  in  the  air! 


78  Coats 

Hazel:  Ah,  what  disease  could  have  you  swept 
in  the  course  of  the  next  two  days? 

Mineog:  That  is  what  I'm  after  saying — un- 
less you  might  have  murder  in  your  mind 

Hazel:    Ah,  what  murder! 

Mineog:  What  way  are  you  thinking  to  do 
away  with  me?  To  shoot  me  with  the  trigger  of 
a  gun  and  to  give  me  shortening  of  life? 

Hazel:  The  trigger  of  a  gun!  God  bless  it, 
I  never  fingered  such  a  thing  in  the  length  of  my 
life! 

Mineog:  To  take  aim  at  me  and  destroy  me; 
to  shoot  me  in  forty  halves  like  a  crow  in  the  time 
of  the  wheat ! 

Hazel:    Oh,  now,  don't  say  a  thing  like  that! 

Mineog:  Or  to  drown  me  maybe  in  the  river, 
enticing  me  across  the  rotten  plank  of  the  bridge. 
(Seizing  bottle.)  Will  you  tell  me  on  the  virtue 
of  your  oath,  is  death  lurking  in  that  sherry 
wine? 

Hazel:  (Pulling  out  paper.)  Ah,  God  bless 
your  jig !  And  how  would  I  know  is  it  a  notice 
of  my  own  death  has  come  into  my  hand  in  the 
pocket  of  this  coat  I  put  on  me  through  a  mistake? 

Mineog:    Give  it  here.     That 's  my  property ! 

Hazel:  (Reading.)  "We  sympathise  with  Mrs. 
Hazel  and  the  family."  There  is  proof  now.  Is 
it  that  you  would  go  grieving  with  my  wife  and 
I  to  be  living  yet? 


Coats  79 

Mineog:  I  did  n't  follow  you  out  beyond  this 
world  with  craving  for  the  repose  of  your  soul. 
It  is  nothing  at  all  beside  what  you  wrote. 

Hazel:  Oh,  I  bear  no  grudge  at  all  against  you. 
I  am  not  huffy  and  crabbed  like  yourself  to  go 
taking  offence.  Sure  Kings  and  big  people  of 
the  sort  are  used  to  see  their  dead-notices  made 
ready  from  the  hour  of  their  birth  out.  And  it 
is  not  anything  printed  on  papers  or  any  flight  of 
words  on  the  Tribune  could  give  me  any  con- 
cern at  all.  See  now  will  I  be  put  out.  (Reads.) 
What  now  is  this?  "Mr.  Hazel  was  of  good 
race,  having  in  him  the  old  stock  of  the  country, 

the  Mahons,  the  O'Hagans,  the  Casserlys ." 

Where  now  did  you  get  that?  I  never  heard 
before,  a  Casserly  to  be  in  my  fathers. 

Mineog:    It  might  be  on  the  side  of  the  mother. 

Hazel:  It  was  not.  My  mother  was  a  girl  of 
the  Hessians  that  was  born  in  the  year  of  the 
French.  My  grandmother  was  Winefred  Kane. 

Mineog:  What  is  being  out  in  one  name  towards 
drawing  down  the  forecast  of  all  classes  of  deaths 
upon  myself? 

Hazel:  There  are  twenty  thousand  things  you 
might  lay  down  and  I  would  give  them  no  leave 
to  annoy  me.  But  I  have  no  mind  any  strange 
family  to  be  mixed  through  me,  but  to  go  my  own 
road  and  to  carry  my  own  character. 

Mineog:    I  would  say  you  to  be  very  crabbed 


8o  Coats 

to  be  making  much  of  a  small  little  mistake  of  the 
sort. 

Hazel:  I  will  not  have  blood  put  in  my  veins 
that  never  rose  up  in  them  by  birth.  You  to 
have  put  a  slur  maybe  on  the  whole  of  my  pos- 
terity for  ever.  That  now  is  a  thing  out  of 
measure. 

Mineog:  It  might  be  the  Casserlys  are  as  fair 
as  the  Hessians,  and  as  well  looking  and  as  well 
reared. 

Hazel:  There  's  no  one  can  know  that.  What 
place  owns  them?  My  tribe  did  n't  come  inside 
the  province.  Every  generation  was  born  and 
bred  in  this  or  in  some  neighbouring  townland. 

Mineog:  Sure  you  will  be  but  yourself  what- 
ever family  may  be  laying  claim  to  you. 

Hazel:  Any  person  of  the  Casserlys  to  have 
done  a  wrong  deed  at  any  time,  the  neighbours 
would  be  watching  and  probing  my  own  brood 
till  they  would  see  might  the  track  of  it  break  out 
in  any  way.  It  ran  through  our  race  to  be  hard 
tempered,  from  the  Kanes  that  are  very  hot. 

Mineog:  Why  would  the  family  of  the  Cas- 
serlys go  doing  wrong  deeds  more  than  another? 

Hazel:  I  would  never  forgive  it,  if  it  was  the 
highest  man  in  Connacht  said  it. 

Mineog:  I  tell  you  there  to  be  any  flaw  in 
them,  it  would  have  worked  itself  out  in  yourself 
ere  this. 


Coats  8 1 

Hazel:  Putting  on  me  the  weight  of  a  family 
I  never  knew  or  never  heard  the  name  of  at  all. 
It  is  that  is  killing  me  entirely. 

Mineog:  Neither  did  I  ever  hear  their  name  or 
if  they  ever  lived  in  the  world,  or  did  any  deed 
good  or  bad  in  it  at  all. 

Hazel:  What  made  you  drag  them  hither  for 
to  write  them  in  my  genealogies  so? 

Mineog:  I  did  not  drag  them  hither  

Give  me  that  paper.  (Takes  MS.  and  looks  at 
it.)  What  would  it  be  but  a  misprint?  Hessian, 
Casserly.  There  does  be  great  resemblance  in 
the  sound  of  a  double  S. 

Hazel:  Whether  or  no,  you  have  a  great  wrong 
done  me!  The  person  I  had  most  dependence  on 
to  be  the  most  person  to  annoy  me!  If  it  was  a 
man  from  the  County  Mayo  I  would  n't  see  him 
treated  that  way ! 

Mineog:  Have  sense  now!  What  would  sig- 
nify anything  might  be  wrote  about  you,  and  the 
green  scraws  being  over  your  head? 

Hazel:  That 's  the  worst!  I  give  you  my 
oath  I  would  not  go  miching  from  death  or  be  in 
terror  of  the  sharpness  of  his  bones,  and  he  coming 
as  at  the  Flood  to  sweep  the  living  world  along 
with  me,  and  leave  no  man  on  earth  having  pen- 
manship to  handle  my  deeds,  or  to  put  his  own 
skin  on  my  story! 

Mineog:    Ah  it 's  likely  the  both  of  us  will 


82  Coats 

be  forgotten  and  our  names  along  with  us,  and  we 
out  in  the  meadow  of  the  dead. 

Hazel:  I  will  not  be  forgotten!  I  have  poster- 
ity will  put  a  good  slab  over  me.  Not  like  some 
would  be  left  without  a  monument,  unless  it  might 
be  the  rags  of  a  cast  waistcoat  would  be  put  on 
sticks  in  a  barley  garden,  to  go  flapping  at  the 
thieves  of  the  air. 

Mineog:  Let  the  birds  or  the  neighbours  go 
screech  after  me  and  welcome,  and  I  not  in  it  to 
hear  or  to  be  annoyed. 

Hazel:  Why  would  n't  we  hear?  I  'm  in  dread 
it 's  too  much  I  '11  hear,  and  you  yourself  sending 
such  news  to  travel  abroad,  that  there  is  blood 
in  me  I  concealed  through  my  lifetime! 

Mineog:  What  you  are  saying  now  has  not 
the  sense  of  reason. 

Hazel:  Tom  Mineog  to  say  that  of  me,  that 
was  my  trusty  comrade  and  my  friend,  what  at 
all  will  strangers  be  putting  out  about  me? 

Mineog:  Ah,  what  call  have  you  to  go  la- 
menting as  if  you  had  lost  all  on  this  side  of  the 
sea! 

Hazel:  You  to  have  brought  that  annoyance 
on  me,  what  would  enemies  be  saying  of  me? 
That  it  was  in  my  breed  to  be  cracked  or  to  have 
a  thorn  in  the  tongue.  There  's  a  generation  of 
families  would  be  great  with  you,  and  behind  you 
they  would  be  backbiting  you. 


Coats  83 

Mineog:  They  will  not.  You  are  of  a  family 
does  n't  know  how  to  say  a  wrong  word. 

Hazel:  A  rabbit  mushroom  they  might  say 
me  to  be,  with  no  memory  behind  or  around  me ! 

Mineog:  Not  at  all.  The  world  knows  you 
to  be  civil  and  brought  up  to  mannerly  ways. 

Hazel:  They  might  say  me  to  have  been  a 
foreigner  or  a  Jew  man ! 

Mineog:  I  can  bear  witness  you  have  no  such 
yellow  look.  And  Hazel  is  a  natural  name. 

Hazel:  It 's  likely  they  '11  say  I  was  a  sheep- 
stealer  or  a  tinker  that  went  foraging  around  after 
food! 

Mineog:  You  that  never  put  your  hand  on  a 
rabbit  burrow  or  stood  before  a  magistrate  or  a 
judge! 

Hazel:  They  '11  put  me  down  as  a  grabber  that 
was  ready  to  quench  a  widow's  fire ! 

Mineog:  Oh,  where  are  you  running  to  at  all 
my  dear  man ! 

Hazel:  And  I  not  to  be  able  at  that  time  to 
rise  up  and  to  get  satisfaction !  I  to  be  wandering 
as  a  shadow  and  to  see  some  schemer  spilling 
out  his  lies!  That  would  be  the  most  grief  in 
death!  I  to  hit  him  a  blow  of  my  fist  and  he 
maybe  not  to  feel  it  or  to  think  it  to  be  but  a 
breeze  of  wind ! 

Mineog:    You  are  going  too  far  entirely ! 

Hazel:    I  to  give  out  a  strong  curse  on  him  and 


84  Coats 

on  his  posterity  and  his  land.  It  would  kill  my 
heart  if  he  would  take  it  to  be  no  human  voice,  but 
some  vanity  like  the  hissing  of  geese! 

Mineog:  I  myself  would  recognise  your  voice, 
and  you  to  be  living  or  dead. 

Hazel:  You  say  that  now.  But  my  ghost  to 
come  calling  to  you  in  the  night  time  to  rise  up  and 
to  clear  my  character,  you  would  run  shivering  to 
the  priest  as  from  some  unnatural  thing.  You 
would  call  to  him  to  come  banish  me  with  a 
Mass! 

Mineog:    The  Lord  be  between  us  and  harm : 

Hazel:  To  have  no  power  of  revenge  after 
death!  My  strength  to  go  nourish  weeds  and 
grass !  A  lie  to  be  told  and  I  living  I  could  go  lay 
my  case  before  the  courts.  So .  I  will  too !  I  '11 
silence  you!  I  '11  learn  you  to  have  done  with 
misspellings  and  with  death  notices!  I  '11  hinder 
you  bringing  in  Casserlys !  I  go  take  advice  from 
the  lawyer!  (Goes  towards  door.} 

Mineog:  I  '11  go  lay  down  my  own  case  and  the 
way  that  you  have  my  life  threatened ! 

Hazel:  I  '11  get  justice  and  a  hearing.  The 
Judge  will  give  in  to  my  say ! 

Mineog:  I  that  will  put  you  under  bail!  I  '11 
bind  you  over  to  quit  prophesying ! 

Hazel:  I  '11  break  the  bail  of  the  sun  and 
moon  before  I  '11  give  you  leave  to  go  brand  me 
with  strange  names  the  same  as  you  would  tar- 


Coats  85 

brand  a  sheep!  I  '11  put  yourself  and  your 
Tribune  under  the  law  of  libel ! 

Mineog:  I  '11  make  a  world's  wonder  of  you! 
I  '11  give  plenty  and  enough  to  the  Champion  to 
fill  out  its  windy  pages  that  time ! 

Hazel:  (At  door.}  I  will  lay  my  information 
before  you  will  overtake  me ! 

Mineog:  (Seizing  him.}  I  will  lay  my  infor- 
mation against  you  for  theft  and  you  bringing 
away  my  coat ! 

Hazel:    I  have  no  intention  of  bringing  it  away ! 

Mineog:  Is  it  that  you  will  deny  it?  Don't 
I  know  that  spot  of  grease  on  the  sleeve? 

Hazel:  Did  I  never  carve  a  goose?  Why 
would  n't  there  be  a  spot  of  grease  on  my  own 
sleeve? 

Mineog:    Strip  it  off  of  you  this  minute! 

Hazel:    Give  me  back  my  own  coat,  so ! 

Mineog:  What  are  you  talking  about !  That 's 
a  great  wonder  now.  So  it  is  not  my  own  coat. 

Hazel:    Strip  it  off  before  you  will  quit  the  room ! 

Mineog:    I  '11  be  well  pleased  casting  it  off ! 

Hazel:  You  will  not  cast  it  on  the  dust  and  the 
dirt  of  the  floor!  (Helps  him.}  Go  easy  now. 

That 's  it (Takes  it  off  gently  and  places 

it  on  chair.} 

Mineog:    Give  me  now  my  own  coat ! 

Hazel:  (Struggling  with  it.}  It  fails  me  to 
get  it  off. 


86  Coats 

Mineog:    What  way  did  you  get  it  on? 

Hazel:    It  is  that  it  is  made  too  narrow. 

Mineog:  No,  but  yourself  that  has  too  much 
bulk. 

Hazel:    (Struggling.)    There  now  is  a  tear! 

Mineog:  (Taking  his  arm.)  Mind  now,  you  '11 
have  it  destroyed. 

Hazel:    Give  me  a  hand,  so. 

Mineog:     (Helping  him  gently)     Have  a  care — 

it 's  a  bit  tender  in  the  seams give  me  here 

your  hand — it  is  caught  in  the  rip  of  the  lining. 

John:  (Coming  in,  puts  pie  on  table)  Wait 
now,  sir,  till  I  '11  aid  you  to  handle  Mr.  Hazel's 
coat.  (Whips  off  coat,  takes  up  other  coat,  hangs 
both  on  pegs)  The  apple  pie,  Sir. 

(Hazel  sits  down,  gasping  and  wiping  his 
face.     Mineog  turns  his  back) 

John:  Is  there  anything  after  happening,  Mr. 
Hazel? 

Hazel:  There  is  not — unless  some  sort  of  a 
battle. 

John:  Ah,  what  signifies?  There  to  be  more 
of  battles  in  the  world  there  would  be  less  of  wars. 
(He  pushes  Mineog' s  chair  to  table) 

Hazel:     (After  a  pause)    Apple  pie? 

Mineog:  (Sitting  down)  Indeed,  I  am  not 
any  way  inclined  for  eating. 

(Takes  plate.    John  stuffs  a  cushion  into 
window  pane  and  picks  up  MSS) 


Coats  87 

John:    Are  these  belonging  to  you,  Mr.  Mineog  ? 

Mineog:  Let  you  throw  them  on  the  coals  of 
the  fire,  where  we  have  no  use  for  them  presently. 

Hazel:  (Stopping  John  and  taking  them.) 
Thursday  is  very  near  at  hand.  Two  empty 
columns  is  a  large  space  to  go  fill. 

Mineog:  Indeed  I  am  feeling  no  way  fit  to  go 
writing  columns. 

Hazel:  (Putting  his  MS.  in  his  pocket.)  There  is 
nothing  ails  them  only  to  begin  a  good  way  after 
the  start,  and  to  stop  before  the  finish. 

Mineog:  (Putting  his  MS.  in  his  pocket.)  We  '11 
do  that.  We  can  put  such  part  of  them  as  we  do 
not  need  at  this  time  back  in  the  shelf  of  the  press. 

Hazel:  (Filling  glasses  and  lifting  his.)  That 
it  may  be  long  before  they  will  be  needed ! 

Mineog:  (Lifting  glass.)  That  they  may  never 
be  needed! 

Curtain 


89 


PERSONS 

Patrick  Kirwan  .  .  .  CALLED  DAMER 

Staffy  Kirwan  .  .  \  HIS  BROTHER 

Delia  Hessian  .  .  .  HIS  SISTER 

Ralph  Hessian  .  .  .  HER  HUSBAND 

Simon  Niland  .'  THEIR  NEPHEW 


DAMER'S  GOLD 
ACT  I 

Scene:  The  kitchen  in  Darner's  house.  Outer 
door  at  back.  Door  leading  to  an  inner  room 
to  right.  A  dresser,  a  table,  and  a  couple  of 
chairs.  An  old  coat  and  hat  hanging  on  the 
wall.  A  knocking  is  heard  at  door  at  back. 
It  is  unlatched  from  outside.  Delia  comes  in. 

Delia:  (Looking  round  cautiously  and  going 
back  to  door.}  You  may  come  in,  Staffy  and 
Ralph.  There  would  seem  to  be  no  person  here. 

Staffy:  Take  care  would  Darner  ask  us  to 
cross  the  threshold  at  all.  I  would  not  ask  to 
go  pushing  on  him,  but  to  wait  till  he  would  call 
to  us  himself.  He  is  not  an  easy  led  man. 

Delia:  (Crossing  and  knocking  at  inner  door.) 
He  is  not  in  it.  He  is  likely  slipped  out  unknownst. 

Ralph:  Herself  that  thought  to  find  him  at  the 
brink  of  death  and  nearing  his  last  leap,  after  what 
happened  him  with  the  jennet.  We  heard  tell 
of  it  as  far  as  we  were. 

Delia:  What  ailed  him  to  go  own  a  jennet, 
he  that  has  means  to  stable  a  bay  horse  would 

91 


92  Darner's  Gold 

set  the  windows  rattling  on  the  public  road,  and 
it  sparkling  over  the  flintstones  after  dark? 

Staffy:  Sure  he  owns  no  fourfooted  beast  only 
the  dog  abroad  in  its  box.  To  make  its  way  into 
the  haggard  the  jennet  did,  the  time  it  staggered 
him  with  a  kick.  To  forage  out  some  grazing  it 
thought  to  do,  beyond  dirt  and  scutchgrass  among 
the  stones.  Very  cross  jennets  do  be,  as  it  is  a 
cross  man  it  met  with. 

Delia:  A  queer  sort  of  a  brother  he  is.  To  go 
searching  Ireland  you  wouldn't  find  queerer. 
But  as  soon  as  I  got  word  what  happened  I  bade 
Ralph  to  put  the  tacklings  on  the  ass.  We  must 
have  nature  about  us  some  way.  There  was 
silence  between  us  long  enough., 

Ralph:  She  was  thinking  it  might  be  the  cause 
of  him  getting  his  death  sooner  than  God  has  it 
promised  to  him,  and  that  it  might  turn  his  mind 
more  friendly  like  towards  us,  he  knowing  us  to 
be  at  hand  for  to  settle  out  his  burying. 

Delia:  Why  would  n't  it,  and  we  being  all  the 
brothers  and  sisters  ever  he  had,  since  Jane 
Niland,  God  rest  her  soul,  went  out  last  Little 
Christmas  from  the  troubles  and  torments  of  the 
world. 

Staffy:  There  is  nothing  left  of  that  marriage 
now,  only  one  young  lad  is  said  to  be  mostly  a  fool. 

Delia:  It  is  ourselves  can  bear  witness  to  that, 
where  he  came  into  the  house  ere  yesterday,  hav- 


Darner's  Gold  93 

ing  no  way  of  living,  since  death  and  misfortune 
scattered  him,  but  as  if  he  was  left  down  out  of 
the  skies. 

Ralph:  He  has  not,  unless  the  pound  piece 
the  mother  put  into  his  hand  at  the  last.  It  is 
much  she  had  that  itself.  The  time  Tom  Niland 
died  from  her,  he  did  n't  leave  her  hardly  the 
cat. 

Staff y:  The  lad  to  have  any  wit  around  him 
he  would  have  come  travelling  hither  along  with 
yourselves,  to  see  would  he  knock  any  kindness 
out  of  Darner. 

Ralph:  It  is  what  herself  was  saying,  it  would 
be  no  advantage  to  him  to  be  coming  here  at  all, 
he  being  as  he  is  half  light,  where  there  is  nothing 
only  will  or  wit  could  pick  any  profit  out  of  Darner. 
She  did  not  let  on  to  him  what  side  were  we  facing, 
and  we  travelling  out  from  Loughtyshassy. 

Staffy:  It  is  likely  he  will  get  tidings  as  good 
as  yourself.  It  is  said,  and  said  largely,  Darner 
has  a  full  gallon  jar  of  gold. 

Ralph:  There  is  no  one  could  lift  it — God  bless 
it— they  were  telling  me.  Filled  up  it  is  and 
brimmed  to  the  very  brink. 

Staffy:  His  heart  and  his  soul  gone  into  it. 
He  is  death  on  that  gallon  of  gold. 

Delia:  He  would  give  leave  to  the  poorhouse 
to  bury  him,  if  he  could  but  put  in  his  will  they 
should  leave  it  down  with  his  bones. 


94  Darner's  Gold 

Staffy:  A  man  could  live  an  easy  life  surely 
and  that  much  being  in  the  house. 

Delia:  There  is  no  more  grasping  man  within 
the  four  walls  of  the  world.  A  strange  thing  he 
turning  to  be  so  ugly  and  prone  to  misery,  where 
he  was  reared  along  with  myself.  I  have  the 
first  covetous  person  yet  to  meet  I  would  like! 
I  never  would  go  thrusting  after  gold,  I  to  get 
all  Lord  Clanricarde's  estate. 

Ralph:  She  never  would,  only  at  a  time  she 
might  have  her  own  means  spent  and  consumed. 

Staffy:  The  house  is  very  racked  beside  what 
it  was.  The  hungriest  cabin  in  the  whole  ring 
of  Connemara  would  not  show  out  so  empty  and 
so  bare. 

Delia:  (Taking  up  a  jug.)  No  sign  in  this 
vessel  of  anything  that  would  leave  a  sign.  I  '11 
go  bail  he  takes  his  tea  in  a  black  state,  and  the 
milk  to  be  rotting  in  the  churn. 

Ralph:  (Handling  a  coat  and  hat  hanging  on  a 
nail.)  That 's  a  queer  cut  of  a  hat.  That  now 
should  have  been  a  good  top-coat  in  its  time. 

Delia:  For  pity's  sake!  That  is  the  top-coat 
and  the  hat  he  used  to  be  wearing  and  he  riding 
his  long-tailed  pony  to  every  racecourse  from 
this  to  the  Curragh  of  Kildare.  A  good  class  of 
cloth  it  should  be  to  last  out  through  seventeen 
years. 

Staffy:    The  time  he  was  young  and  fundless 


Darner's  Gold  95 

he  had  not  a  bad  reaching  hand.  He  never  was 
thrifty  but  lavish  till  he  came  into  the  ownership 
of  the  land.  It  is  as  if  his  luck  left  him,  he  growing 
timid  at  the  time  he  had  means  to  lose. 

Delia:  Every  horse  he  would  back  at  that  time 
it  would  surely  win  all  before  it.  I  saw  the  people 
thronging  him  one  time,  taking  him  in  their  arms 
for  joy,  and  the  winnings  coming  into  his  hand. 
It  is  likely  they  ran  out  through  the  fingers  as 
swift  nearly  as  they  flowed  in. 

Staffy:  He  grew  to  be  very  dark  and  crabbed 
from  the  time  of  the  father's  death.  His  mind 
was  on  his  halfpenny  ever  since. 

Delia:  (Looking  at  dresser.}  Spiders'  webs 
heaped  in  ridges  the  same  as  windrows  in  a  bleach 
of  hay.  What  now  is  that  there  above  on  the 
upper  shelf? 

Ralph:  (Taking  it  from  top  shelf.}  It  is  but 
a  pack  of  cards. 

Staffy:  They  should  maybe  be  the  very  same 
that  brought  him  profit  in  his  wild  days.  He 
always  had  a  lucky  hand. 

Delia:  (Dusting  them.}  You  would  give  your 
seven  oaths  the  dust  to  have  been  gathering  on 
them  since  the  time  of  the  Hebrews'  Flood.  I  '11 
tell  you  now  a  thing  to  do.  We  being  here  before 
him  in  the  house,  why  would  n't  we  ready  it  and 
put  some  sort  of  face  upon  it,  the  way  he  would 
be  in  humour  with  us  coming  in. 


96  Darner's  Gold 

Ralph:  And  the  way  he  might  incline  to  put 
into  our  hand  some  good  promise  or  some  gift. 

Delia:  (Dusting.}  I  would  wish  no  gift  from 
any  person  at  all,  but  that  my  mind  is  set  at  this 
time  on  a  fleet  of  white  goats  and  a  guinea-hen  are 
to  be  canted  out  from  the  Spanish  woman  at  Lis- 
atuwna  cross  by  reason  of  the  hanging  gale. 

Staffy:  That  was  the  way  with  you,  Delia, 
from  the  time  you  could  look  out  from  the  half- 
door,  to  be  coveting  pictures  and  fooleries,  that 
would  shape  themselves  in  your  mind. 

Delia:  There  is  no  sin  coveting  things  are  of 
no  great  use  or  profit,  but  would  show  out  good 
and  have  some  grandeur  around  them.  Those 
goats  now!  Browsing  on  the  blossoms  of  the 
bushes  they  would  be,  or  the  herbs  that  give  out 
a  sweet  smell.  Stir  yourself,  Staffy,  and  throw 
your  eye  on  that  turf  beyond  in  the  corner.  It  is 
that  wet  you  could  wring  from  it  splashes  and 
streams.  Let  you  rise  the  ashes  from  the  sods 
are  on  the  hearth  and  redden  them  with  a  goose- 
wing,  if  there  is  a  goosewing  to  be  found.  There  is 
no  greater  beauty  to  be  met  with  than  the  leaping 
of  a  little  yellow  flame. 

Staffy:  In  my  opinion  there  will  no  pay-day 
come  for  this  work,  but  only  a  thank-you  job; 
a  County  Clare  payment,  '  God  spare  you  the 
health!' 

Delia:    Let  you  do  it,  Ralph  so.     (Takes  pota- 


Darner's  Gold  97 

toes  from  a  sieve.}  A  roasted  potato  would  be  a 
nice  thing  to  put  before  him,  in  the  place  of  this 
old  crust  of  a  loaf.  Put  them  in  now  around  the 
sods,  the  way  they  will  be  crispy  before  him. 

Ralph:  (Taking  them.}  And  the  way  he  will 
see  you  are  a  good  housekeeper  and  will  mind  well 
anything  he  might  think  fit  to  give. 

Delia:  (At  clock.}  I  '11  set  to  the  right  time 
of  day  the  two  hands  of  the  clock  are  pointing  a 
full  hour  before  the  sun.  Take,  Staffy,  that  pair 
of  shoes  and  lessen  from  them  the  clay  of  the  land. 
That  much  of  doing  will  not  break  your  heart. 
He  will  be  as  proud  as  the  fallen  angels  seeing 
the  way  we  have  all  set  out  before  him. 

(A  harsh  laugh  is  heard  at  inner  door.     They 
turn  and  see  Darner  watching  them.} 

Ralph:    Glory  be  to  God! 

Delia:    It  is  Darner  was  within  all  the  time! 

Staffy:  What  are  you  talking  about,  Delia? 
It  is  Patrick  you  were  meaning  to  say. 

Darner:  Let  her  go  on  prattling  out  Darner 
to  my  face,  as  it  is  often  she  called  it  behind  my 
shoulders.  Darner  the  chandler,  the  miser  got  the 
spoil  of  the  Danes,  that  was  mocked  at  since 
the  time  of  the  Danes.  I  know  well  herself  and 
the  world  have  me  christened  with  that  nickname. 

Ralph:  Ah,  it  is  not  to  dispraise  you  they  put 
it  on  you,  but  to  show  you  out  so  wealthy  and  so 
rich. 


98  Darner's  Gold 

Darner:  I  am  thinking  it  is  not  love  of  my  four 
bones  brings  you  on  this  day  under  my  thatch  ? 

Staffy:  We  heard  tell  you  were  after  being 
destroyed  with  a  jennet. 

Darner:  Picking  up  newses  and  tidings  of  me 
ye  do  be.  It  is  short  the  delay  was  on  you  coming. 

Delia:  And  I  after  travelling  through  the  most 
of  the  day  on  the  head  of  you  being  wounded  and 
hurt,  thinking  you  to  be  grieving  to  see  one  of 
your  own!  And  I  in  dread  of  my  life  stealing 
past  your  wicked  dog. 

Darner:  My  joy  he  is,  scaring  you  with  his 
bark !  If  it  was  n't  for  him  you  would  have  me 
clogged  and  tormented,  coming  in  and  bothering 
me  every  whole  minute. 

Delia:  There  is  no  person  in  Ireland  only 
yourself  but  would  have  as  much  welcome  for  me 
to-day  as  on  the  first  day  ever  they  saw  me ! 

Darner:  What 's  that  you  are  doing  with  my 
broom? 

Delia:  To  do  away  with  the  spider's  webs  I 
did,  where  the  shelves  were  looped  with  them  and 
smothered.  Look  at  all  that  came  off  of  that 
pack  of  cards. 

Darner:  What  call  had  you  to  do  away  with 
them,  and  they  belonging  to  myself?  Is  it  to 
bleed  to  death  I  should  and  I  to  get  a  tip  of  a 
billhook  or  a  slasher?  You  and  your  vagaries 
to  have  left  me  bare,  that  I  would  be  without 


Darner's  Gold  99 

means  to  quench  the  blood,  and  it  to  rise  up  from 
my  veins  and  to  scatter  on  every  side! 

Delia:  Is  it  that  you  are  without  e'er  a  rag, 
and  that  ancient  coat  to  be  hanging  on  the 
wall? 

Darner:  The  place  swept  to  flitters!  What  is 
that  man  of  yours  doing  and  he  handling  my  turf? 

Ralph:  It  was  herself  thought  to  be  service- 
able to  you,  setting  out  the  fuel  that  was  full  of 
dampness  where  it  would  get  an  air  of  the  fire. 

Darner:  To  dry  it  is  it?  (Seizes  sods  and  takes 
them  from  the  hearth.}  And  what  length  would  it 
be  without  being  burned  and  consumed  and  it 
not  to  be  wet  putting  it  on?  (Pours  water  over  it.) 
And  I  after  stacking  it  purposely  in  the  corner 
where  there  does  be  a  drip  from  the  thatch. 

Ralph:  She  but  thought  it  would  be  more 
answerable  to  you  being  dry. 

Darner:  What  way  could  I  bear  the  expense 
of  a  fire  on  the  hearth  and  it  to  leave  smouldering 
and  to  break  out  into  a  blaze?  A  month's  cutting 
maybe  to  go  to  ashes  within  three  minutes,  and 
into  wisps  of  smoke.  And  the  price  of  turf  in  this 
year  gone  wild  out  of  measure,  and  it  packed  so 
roguish  you  could  read  the  printed  speeches  on 
the  paper  through  the  sods  you  do  be  buying  in 
the  creel. 

Staffy:  I  was  saying  myself  not  to  meddle  with 
it.  It  is  hurry  is  a  worse  friend  than  delay. 


ioo  Darner's  Gold 

Darner:  Where  did  you  get  those  spuds  are 
roasting  there  upon  the  hearth  ? 

Ralph:  Herself  that  brought  them  out  from 
the  sieve,  thinking  to  make  ready  your  meal. 

Darner:  My  seed  potatoes!  Samples  I  got 
from  the  guardians  and  asked  in  the  shops  and  in 
stores  till  I  'd  gather  enough  to  set  a  few  ridges 
in  the  gardens  would  serve  me  through  the  length 
of  the  year! 

Delia:  Let  you  be  satisfied  so  with  your  mouldy 
bit  of  loaf.  (Breaks  a  bit  from  it  and  hands  it  to 
him.} 

Darner:  Do  not  be  breaking  it  so  wasteful! 
The  mice  to  have  news  there  was  as  much  as  that 
of  crumbs  in  the  house,  they  would  be  running  the 
same  as  chickens  around  the  floor ! 

Ralph:  Thinking  to  be  comfortable  to  you 
she  was,  the  way  you  would  make  us  welcome 
from  this  out. 

Darner:  Which  of  ye  is  after  meddling  with 
my  clock? 

Delia:    It  was  a  full  hour  before  its  time. 

Darner:  It  to  be  beyond  its  time,  would  n't 
that  save  fire  and  candles  sending  me  to  my  bed 
early  in  the  night?  Leave  down  those  boots! 
(Takes  them  from  Staff y.}  Is  it  that  you  are 
wearing  out  the  uppers  with  scraping  at  them  and 
scratching !  Is  it  to  rob  me  ye  are  come  into  this 
place? 


Darner's  Gold  101 

Delia:  I  tell  you  we  only  came  in  getting  word 
that  you  were  done  and  dying. 

Darner:  Ha!  Is  it  to  think  I  was  dying  ye 
did?  Well,  I  am  not.  I  am  not  so  easy  quenched. 
Strength  and  courage  I  have,  to  keep  a  fast  grip 
of  what  I  own. 

Delia:  Let  you  not  be  talking  that  way!  We 
are  no  grabbers  and  no  thieves ! 

Darner:  I  have  it  in  my  mind  that  ye  are. 
Very  ravenous  to  run  through  my  money  ye  are. 

Delia:  The  world  knows  I  am  not  ravenous! 
I  never  gave  my  heart  to  silver  or  to  gold  but  only 
to  the  thing  it  would  bring  in.  But  to  hold  from 
me  the  thing  my  heart  is  craving  after,  you  might 
as  well  blacken  the  hearth. 

Darner:  Striving  to  scare  me  out  of  my  courage 
and  my  wits,  the  way  I  '11  give  in  to  go  making 
my  will. 

Ralph:  She  would  not  be  wishful  you  to  do  that 
the  time  your  mind  would  be  vexed. 

Darner:  I  '11  make  it,  sick  or  sound,  if  I  have  a 
mind  to  make  it. 

Delia:  Little  thanks  you  '11  get  from  me  if 
you  make  it  or  do  not  make  it.  That  is  the  naked 
truth. 

Darner:  The  whole  of  ye  think  yourselves  to 
be  very  managing  and  very  wise ! 

Delia:  Let  you  go  will  it  so  to  an  asylum  for 
fools. 


io2  Darner's  Gold 

Darner:  Why  would  n't  I  ?  It  is  in  the  asylums 
all  the  sense  is  these  times.  There  is  only  the 
fools  left  outside. 

Delia:  You  to  bestow  it  outside  of  your  own 
kindred  for  to  benefit  and  comfort  your  soul,  all 
the  world  will  say  it  is  that  you  had  it  gathered 
together  by  fraud. 

Staffy:    Do  not  be  annoying  him  now. 

Delia:  I  will  not.  But  the  time  he  will  be 
lying  under  the  flagstone,  it  is  holly  rods  and 
brambles  will  spring  up  from  out  of  his  thorny 
heart. 

Darner:  A  hasty,  cranky  woman  in  the  house 
is  worse  than  you  to  lay  your  hand  upon  red  coals ! 
I  know  well  your  tongue  that  is  as  sharp  as  the 
sickle  of  the  moon ! 

Delia:  The  character  you  will  leave  after  you 
will  be  worse  out  and  out  than  Herod's ! 

Darner:  The  devil  upon  the  winds  she  is !  That 
one  was  born  into  the  world  having  the  use  of  the 
bow  and  arrows ! 

Delia:  You  not  to  give  fair  play  to  your  own, 
it  is  a  pitiful  ghost  will  appear  in  your  image, 
questing  and  craving  our  prayers ! 

Darner:  I  know  well  what  is  your  aim  and  your 
drift! 

Delia:  I  say  any  man  has  a  right  to  give  thanks 
to  the  heavens,  and  he  having  decent  people  to  will 
his  means  to,  in  place  of  people  having  no  call  to  it. 


Darner's  Gold  103 

Darner:  Whoever  I  '11  will  it  to  will  have  call 
to  it! 

Delia:  Or  to  part  with  it  to  low  people  and  to 
mean  people,  and  you  having  it  to  give. 

Darner:  Having  it  to  give  is  it?  Do  you  see 
that  lock  on  the  door? 

Delia:    I  do  see  it  and  have  eyes  to  see  it. 

Darner:  Can  you  make  any  guess  what  is 
inside  of  it? 

Delia:  It  is  likely  it  is  what  there  is  so  much 
talk  about,  your  own  full  gallon  of  gold. 

(Ralph  takes  off  his  hat.} 

Darner:    Lay  now  your  eye  to  that  lock  hole. 

Ralph:  (Looking  through  keyhole.}  It  is  all 
dusky  within.  It  fails  me  to  see  any  shining 
thing.  (Staffy  and  Delia  put  their  eyes  to  key- 
hole but  draw  back  disappointed.) 

Darner:  If  you  cannot  see  it,  try  can  you  get 
the  smell  of  it.  Take  a  good  draw  of  it  now; 
lay  your  head  along  the  hinges  of  the  door. 
So  now  ye  may  quit  and  scamper  out  of  this, 
the  whole  throng  of  ye,  robbers  and  hangmen 
and  bankbreakers,  bargers  and  bad  characters, 
and  you  may  believe  me  telling  you  that  is  the 
nearest  ye  ever  will  come  to  my  gold !  (He  bangs 
back  into  room  locking  door  after  him.) 

Delia:  He  has  no  more  nature  than  the  brutes 
of  the  field,  hunting  and  howling  after  us. 

Staffy:    Yourself  that  rose  him  out  of  his  wits 


104  Darner's  Gold 

and  his  senses.  We  will  sup  sorrow  for  this  day's 
work  where  he  will  put  curses  after  us.  It  is 
best  for  us  go  back  to  my  place.  It  may  be  to- 
morrow that  his  anger  will  be  cured  up. 

Ralph:  I  thought  it  was  to  lay  him  out  with  cand- 
les we  were  brought  here.  I  declare  I  came  nearer 
furnishing  out  a  corpse  myself  with  the  start  I  got. 
Delia:  There  is  no  dread  on  me.  When  he 
gets  in  humour  I  will  tackle  up  again  to  him. 
It  is  too  far  I  came  to  be  facing  back  to  Loughty- 
shassy  and  I  fasting  from  the  price  of  my  goats! 
Little  collars  I  was  thinking  to  buckle  around  their 
neck  the  same  as  a  lady's  lapdog,  and  maybe  so 
far  as  a  small  clear-sounding  bell. 

(They  go  out,  Darner  comes  back.  He  puts 
on  clock,  rakes  out  fire,  picks  up  pota- 
toes and  puts  them  back  in  sieve,  takes 
bread  into  his  room.  There  is  a  knock 
at  the  door.  Then  it  is  cautiously  opened 
and  Simon  Niland  comes  in,  and  stands 
near  the  hearth.  Darner  comes  back 
and  sees  him.} 

Darner:    What  are  you  looking  for? 
Simon:    For  what  I  won't  get  seemingly,  that 
is  a  welcome. 

Darner:    Maybe  it 's  for  fists  you  are  looking? 
Simon:    It  is  not,  before  I  will  get  my  rest.     I 
could  n't   box  to-night  if    I  was  the  Queen  of 
England. 


Darner's  Gold  105 

Darner:  Have  you  any  traffic  with  that  con- 
gregation is  after  going  out? 

Simon:  I  seen  no  person  good  or  bad,  but  a 
dog  and  it  on  the  chain. 

Darner:  You  to  have  in  you  any  of  the  breed 
of  the  Kirwans  that  is  my  own,  I  'd  rise  the  tongs 
and  pitch  you  out  from  the  door ! 

Simon:  I  suppose  you  would  not  begrudge  me 
to  rest  myself  for  a  while.  (Sits  down.} 

Darner:  I  '11  give  leave  to  no  strolling  vagabond 
to  sit  in  any  place  at  all. 

Simon:  All  right  so.  (Tosses  a  coin  he  takes 
from  his  pocket,  tied  in  a  spotted  handkerchief.} 

Darner:    What 's  that  you  're  doing? 

Simon:  Pitching  a  coin  I  was  to  see  would  it 
bid  me  go  west  or  east. 

Darner:    Go  toss  outside  so. 

Simon:  (Stooping  and  groping.}  I  will  after 
I  will  find  it. 

Darner:    Hurry  on  now. 

Simon:  Wait  till  I  '11  kindle  a  match.  (Lights 
one  and  picks  up  coin.} 

Darner:    What  is  that  in  your  hand? 

Simon:    You  should  know. 

Darner:    Is  it  gold  it  is? 

Simon:  It  is  all  I  have  of  means  in  the  world. 
I  never  handled  a  coin  before  it,  but  my  bite  to  be 
given  me  and  my  bed. 

Darner:    You  '11  mind  it  well  if  you  have  sense. 


1 06  Darner's  Gold 

Simon:  It  is  towards  the  east  it  bade  me  go. 
I  '11  travel  as  far  as  the  races  of  Knockbarron 
to-morrow. 

Darner:    You  '11  be  apt  to  lose  it  going  to  races. 

Simon:  1 11  go  bet  with  it,  and  see  what  way 
will  it  turn  out. 

Darner:  You  to  set  all  you  own  upon  a  horse 
that  might  fail  at  the  leaps!  It  is  a  very  foolish 
thing  doing  that. 

Simon:  It  might  not.  Some  have  luck  and 
are  born  lucky  and  more  have  run  through  their 
luck.  If  I  lose  it,  it  is  lost.  It  would  not  keep  me 
long  anyway.  I  to  win,  I  will  have  more  and 
plenty. 

Darner:    You  will  surely  lose  it. 

Simon:  If  I  do  I  have  nothing  to  get  or  to  fall 
back  on.  It  is  some  other  one  must  take  my 
charges. 

Darner:  A  great  pity  to  go  lose  a  gold  sovereign 
to  some  schemer  you  never  saw  before. 

Simon:  Sure  you  must  take  some  risk.  You 
cannot  put  your  hands  around  the  world. 

Darner:  It  to  be  swept  by  a  trick  of  the  loop 
man! 

Simon:    It  is  not  with  that  class  I  will  make  free. 

Darner:  To  go  lose  the  whole  of  it  in  one  second 
of  time ! 

Simon:    I  will  make  four  divides  of  it. 

Darner:    To  go  change  it  into  silver  and  into 


Darner's  Gold  107 

copper!  That  would  be  the  most  pity  in  the 
world. 

Simon:  I  '11  chance  it  all  upon  the  one  jock 
so. 

Darner:  Gold!  Believe  me  it  is  a  good  thing 
to  hold  and  a  very  heartbreak  the  time  it  is  lost. 
(Takes  it  in  his  hand.}  Pure  gold!  There  is  not 
a  thing  to  be  got  with  it  as  worthy  as  what  it  is 
itself!  There  is  no  comfort  in  any  place  and  it 
not  in  it.  The  Queen's  image  on  it  and  her  crown. 
Solid  between  the  fingers ;  weighty  in  the  palm  of 
the  hand ;  as  beautiful  as  ever  I  saw. 

Simon:  It  is  likely  it  is  the  same  nearly  as  any 
other  one. 

Darner:  Gold!  My  darling  it  is!  From  the 
hollows  of  the  world  to  the  heights  of  the  world 
there  is  no  grander  thing  to  be  found.  My  bone 
and  my  marrow!  Let  me  have  the  full  of  my 
arms  of  it  and  I  '11  not  ask  the  flowers  of  field  or 
fallow  or  the  dancing  of  the  Easter  sun ! 

Simon:  I  am  thinking  you  should  be  Darner. 
I  heard  said  Darner  has  a  full  crock  of  gold. 

Darner:    He  has  not !    He  has  not ! 

Simon:  That  is  what  the  world  says  anyway. 
I  heard  it  as  far  as  the  seaside. 

Darner:    I  wish  to  my  God  it  was  true ! 

Simon:  Full  and  brimming  to  the  brink.  That 
is  the  way  it  was  told. 

Darner:    It  is  not  full!    It  is  not!    Whisper 


io8  Darner's  Gold 

now.  It  is  many  a  time  I  thought  it  to  be  full, 
full  at  last,  full  at  last ! 

Simon:    And  it  was  n't  after? 

Darner:  To  take  it  and  to  shake  it  I  do.  It  is 
often  I  gave  myself  a  promise  the  time  there  will 
be  no  sound  from  it,  I  will  give  in  to  nourish  my- 
self, I  will  rise  out  of  misery.  But  every  time  I  will 
try  it,  I  will  hear  a  little  clatter  that  tells  me  there 
is  some  space  left ;  some  small  little  hole  or  gap. 

Simon:  What  signifies  that  when  you  have  so 
much  in  it? 

Darner:  Weightier  it  gets  and  weightier,  but 
there  will  always  be  that  little  sound.  I  thought 
to  stop  it  one  time,  putting  in  a  fistful  of  hayseed ; 
but  I  felt  in  my  heart  that  was  not  dealing  fair 
and  honest  with  myself,  and  I  rose  up  and  shook 
it  out  again,  rising  up  from  my  bed  in  the  night 
time.  I  near  got  my  death  with  the  cold  and  the 
draught  fell  on  me  doing  that. 

Simon:  It  is  best  for  me  be  going  on  where  I 
might  find  my  bed, 

Darner:  Hearken  now.  I  am  old  and  the  long 
road  behind  me.  You  are  young  and  in  your 
strength.  It  is  you  is  rich,  it  is  I  myself  that  is 
poor.  You  know  well,  you  to  get  the  offer,  you 
would  not  change  your  lot  with  my  own. 

Simon:  I  suppose  I  might  not.  I  'd  as  lief 
keep  my  countenance  and  my  run. 

Darner:    Is  n't  it  a  great  pity  there  to  be  that 


Darner's  Gold  109 

hollow  within  in  my  gallon,  and  the  little  coin 
that  would  likely  just  fill  it  up,  to  be  going  out 
of  the  house? 

Simon:    Is  it  that  you  are  asking  it  of  me? 

Darner:  You  might  never  find  so  good  a  way 
to  open  Heaven  to  yourself  with  a  charity.  To  be 
bringing  peace  to  an  old  man  that  has  not  long 
to  live  in  the  world!  You  wouldn't  think  now 
how  quiet  I  would  sleep,  and  the  good  dreams 
would  be  going  through  me,  and  that  gallon  jar 
to  be  full  and  to  make  no  sound  the  time  I  would 
roll  it  on  the  floor.  That  would  be  a  great  deed 
for  one  little  pound  piece  to  do! 

Simon:    I  '11  toss  you  for  it. 

Darner:  I  would  not  dare  put  anything  at  all 
upon  a  chance. 

Simon:    Leave  it  alone  so.     (Turns  away.} 

Darner:  (Seizing  him.)  It  would  make  such 
a  good  appearance  in  the  little  gap ! 

Simon:    Head  or  harp? 

Darner:    No,  I  'm  in  dread  I  might  lose. 

Simon:    Take  your  chance  or  leave  it. 

Darner:  I  to  lose,  you  may  kill  me  on  the 
moment!  My  heart  is  driven  down  in  the  sole 
of  my  shoe ! 

Simon:    That  is  poor  courage. 

Damer:  There  is  some  shiver  forewarning  me 
I  will  lose!  I  made  a  strong  oath  I  never  would 
give  in  again  to  try  any  sort  of  chance. 


no  Darner's  Gold 

Simon:    You  did  n't  make  it  but  with  yourself. 

Darner:  It  was  through  my  luck  leaving  me  I 
swore  against  betting  and  gaming. 

Simon:  It  might  turn  back  fresh  and  hearty 
where  you  gave  it  so  long  a  rest. 

Darner:    Well — maybe 

Simon:    Here  now. 

Darner:    I  dare  not. 

Simon:  (Going  to  door.)  I  '11  make  my  bet 
so  according  to  a  dream  I  had.  It  is  on  a  red 
horse  I  will  put  it  to-morrow. 

Darner:    No — stop — wait  a  minute. 

Simon:    I  '11  win  surely  following  my  dream. 

Darner:    I  might  not  lose. 

Simon:  I  'm  in  dread  of  that.  All  turns  to 
the  man  is  rich. 

Darner:    I  '11  chance  it ! 

Simon:    You  said  no  and  I  '11  take  no. 

Darner:    You  cannot  go  back  of  your  word. 

Simon:    Let  me  go  out  from  you  tempting  me. 

Darner:    (Seizing  him.}    Heads !     I  say  heads ! 

Simon:    Harps  it  is.     I  win. 

Darner:    My  bitter  grief!    Ochone! 

Simon:    I  '11  toss  you  for  another. 

Darner:  You  will  not.  What 's  tosses?  Look 
at  here  what  is  put  in  my  way!  (Holds  up  pack 
of  cards.) 

Simon:    Where  's  the  stakes? 

Darner:    Wait  a  second.     (Goes  into  room.) 


Darner's  Gold  in 

Simon:    Hurry  on  or  I  won't  stop. 

Darner:  Let  you  not  stir  out  of  that !  (Comes 
back  and  throws  money  on  table.} 

Simon:    Come  on  so.     (Shuffles  cards.} 

Darner:  Give  me  the  pack.  (Cuts.}  I  did  n't 
feel  a  card  between  my  fingers  this  seven  and  a 
half -score  years ! 

Simon:    Spades  are  trumps. 

Darner:  (Lighting  candle}  I  '11  win  it  back! 
I  won't  begrudge  spending  a  penny  candle,  no,  or 
two  penny  candles!  I  '11  play  you  to  the  brink 
of  day! 

Curtain 


ACT  II 

The  next  morning.  The  same  kitchen.  Simon 
Niland  is  lying  asleep  on  the  hearth.  Ralph 
and  Staffy  are  looking  at  him. 

Staff y:    Who  is  it  at  all  is  in  it? 

Ralph:  Who  would  it  be  but  Simon  Niland, 
that  is  come  following  after  us. 

Staffy:  Stretched  and  sleeping  all  the  same  as 
if  there  was  a  pin  of  slumber  in  his  hair,  as  in  the 
early  times  of  the  world.  The  day  passing  with- 
out anything  doing.  That  one  will  never  win  to  a 
fortune. 

Ralph:  It  would  be  as  well  for  ourselves  maybe 
he  not  to  be  too  great  with  Darner. 

Staffy:  Will  Delia  make  any  headway  I 
wonder.  She  had  good  courage  to  go  face  him, 
and  he  abroad  on  the  land,  sitting  stooped  on  the 
bent  body  of  a  bush. 

Ralph:  I  wonder  what  way  did  that  lad  make 
his  way  into  this  place.  Wait  now  till  1 11  waken 
and  question  him.  (Shakes  Simon.} 

Simon:     (Drowsily.}     Who  is  that  stirring  me? 

Ralph:    Rouse  yourself  up  now. 

112 


Darner's  Gold  113 

Simon:  Do  not  be  rousing  me,  where  I  am 
striving  to  catch  a  hold  of  the  tail  of  my  last  dream. 

Staff y:  Is  it  seeking  for  a  share  of  Darner's 
wealth  you  are  come? 

Simon:    I  never  asked  and  never  looked  for  it. 

Stqffy:  You  are  going  the  wrong  road  to  reach 
to  it. 

Simon:  A  bald  cat  there  was  in  the  dream,  was 
keeping  watch  over  jewelleries  in  a  cave. 

Stuffy:  No  person  at  all  would  stretch  out  his 
hand  to  a  lad  would  be  rambling  and  walking  the 
world,  and  it  in  its  darkness  and  sleep,  and  be 
drowsing  and  miching  from  labour  through  the 
hours  the  sun  has  command  of. 

Delia:  (At  the  door.)  Is  it  that  ye  are  within, 
Staffy  and  Ralph? 

Ralph:    We  are,  and  another  along  with  us. 

Delia:    Put  him  out  the  door! 

Ralph:  Ah,  there 's  no  danger  of  him  coming 
around  Darner.  He  is  simple  and  has  queer  talk 
too. 

Delia:  Put  him  out  I  say !  (Pushes  Simon  to 
door.)  Let  him  drowse  out  the  day  in  the  car  shed ! 
I  tell  you  Darner  is  at  hand ! 

Ralph:    Has  he  the  frown  on  him  yet? 

Staffy:    Did  his  anger  anyway  cool  down? 

Delia:  He  is  coming  I  say.  I  am  partly  in 
dread  of  him.  I  am  afeard  and  affrighted! 

Ralph:    He   should   be   in   terrible   rages   so. 


ii4  Darner's  Gold 

There  was  no  dread  on  you  yesterday,  and  he 
cursing  and  roaring  the  way  he  was. 

Delia:  He  is  mad  this  time  out  and  out.  Wait 
now  till  you  '11  see! 

(She  goes  behind  dresser.  Darner  comes  to 
the  door.  Staffy  goes  behind  a  chair. 
Ralph  seizes  a  broom.) 

Darner:  (A  t  door.)  Are  you  acquainted  with  any 
person,  Ralph  Hessian,  is  in  need  of  a  savage  dog  ? 

Staffy:  Is  it  that  you  are  about  to  part  Jubair 
your  dog? 

Darner:    I  have  no  use  for  him  presently. 

Staffy:  Is  it  that  you  are  without  dread  of 
robbers  coming  for  to  knock  in  your  skull  with 
a  stone?  Or  maybe  out  in  the  night  it  is  to  burn 
you  out  of  the  house  they  would. 

Darner:  What  signifies,  what  signifies?  All 
must  die,  all  must  die.  The  longest  person  that 
will  live  in  the  world,  he  is  bound  to  go  in  the  heel. 
Life  is  a  long  road  to  travel  and  a  hard  rough  track 
under  the  feet. 

Staffy:  Mike  Merrick  the  huckster  has  an 
apple  garden  bought  against  the  harvest.  He 
should  likely  be  seeking  for  a  dog.  There  do  be 
little  lads  passing  to  the  school. 

Darner:  He  might  want  him,  he  might  want 
him.  (He  leans  upon  half -door.) 

Staffy:  Is  it  that  you  are  tired  and  wore  out 
carrying  the  load  of  your  wealth? 


Darner's  Gold  115 

Darner:  It  is  a  bad  load  surely.  It  was  the 
love  of  money  destroyed  Buonaparte  where  he 
went  robbing  a  church,  without  the  men  of  learn- 
ing are  telling  lies. 

Staffy:  I  would  never  go  so  far  as  robbery,  but 
to  bid  it  welcome  I  would,  and  it  coming  fair  and 
easy  into  my  hand. 

Darner:  There  was  a  king  out  in  Foreign  went 
astray  through  the  same  sin.  His  people  that 
made  a  mockery  of  him  after  his  death,  filling  up 
his  jaws  with  rendered  gold.  Believe  me,  any 
person  goes  coveting  after  riches  puts  himself  under 
a  bad  master. 

Staffy:  That  is  a  master  I  'd  be  willing  to 
engage  with,  he  to  give  me  my  victuals  and  my 
ease. 

Darner:  In  my  opinion  it  was  to  keep  tempta- 
tion from  our  path  the  gold  of  the  world  was 
covered  under  rocks  and  in  the  depths  of  the 
streams.  Believe  me  it  is  best  leave  it  where  it 
is,  and  not  to  meddle  with  the  Almighty. 

Staffy:  You  'd  be  best  without  it.  It  is  the 
weight  of  it  is  bowing  you  to  your  grave.  When 
things  are  vexing  your  mind  and  you  are  trouble 
minded  they  '11  be  going  through  your  head  in  the 
night  time.  There  is  a  big  shift  and  a  great  change 
in  you  since  yesterday.  There  is  not  the  half  of 
you  in  it.  You  have  the  cut  of  the  misfortune. 

Darner:    I  am  under  misfortune  indeed. 


n6  Darner's  Gold 

Staffy:  Give  over  now  your  load  to  myself 
before  the  coming  of  the  dusk.  The  way  you  are 
there  '11  be  nothing  left  of  you  within  three  days. 
There  is  no  way  with  you  but  death. 

Delia:  (To  Ralph.}  Let  you  raise  your  voice 
now,  and  come  around  him  on  my  own  behalf. 

Ralph:  It  is  what  herself  is  saying,  you  to  be 
quitting  the  world  as  it  seems,  it  is  as  good  for  you 
make  over  to  her  your  crock  of  gold. 

Darner:  I  would  not  wish,  for  all  the  glories  of 
Ireland,  to  leave  temptation  in  the  path  of  my 
own  sister  or  my  kin,  or  to  twist  a  gad  for  their 
neck. 

Delia:    (To  Ralph.}     Tell  him  I  '11  chance  it. 

Darner:  At  the  time  of  the  judgment  of  the 
mountain,  when  the  sun  and  moon  will  be  all  one 
with  two  blackberries,  it  is  not  being  pampered 
with  plenty  will  serve  you,  beside  being  great  with 
the  angels! 

Delia:  (Shrinking  back.}  I  would  as  soon 
nearly  not  get  it  at  all,  where  it  might  bring  me  to 
the  wretched  state  of  Damer !  (Dog  heard  barking.} 

Darner:  I  '11  go  bring  my  poor  Jubair  out  of 
this.  A  great  sin  and  a  great  pity  to  be  losing 
provision  with  a  dog,  and  the  image  of  the  saints 
maybe  to  be  going  hungry  and  bare.  How  do  I 
know  what  troop  might  be  bearing  witness  against 
me  before  the  gate  of  heaven?  To  be  cherishing 
a  ravenous  beast  might  be  setting  his  teeth  in  their 


Darner's  Gold  117 

limbs!  To  give  charity  to  the  poor  is  the  best 
religion  in  Ireland.  Did  n't  our  Lord  Himself 
go  beg  through  three  and  thirty  years?  (He  goes.) 

Delia:  (Coming  forward.)  Will  you  believe 
me  now  telling  you  he  is  gone  unsteady  in  the 
head? 

Staffy:  I  see  no  other  sign.  He  is  a  gone  man 
surely.  His  understanding  warped  and  turned 
backward.  To  see  him  blighted  the  way  he  is 
would  stir  the  heart  of  a  stone. 

Ralph:  He  surely  got  some  vision  or  some 
warning,  or  there  lit  on  him  a  fit  or  a  stroke. 

Staffy:  Twice  a  child  and  only  once  a  man. 
He  is  turned  to  be  innocent  with  age. 

Ralph:  It  would  be  a  bad  thing  he  to  meet 
with  his  death  unknown  to  us. 

Delia:  It  would  be  worse  again  he  that  is  gone 
out  of  his  latitude  to  be  brought  away  to  the 
asylum. 

Ralph:    I  don't  know. 

Delia:  But  I  know.  He  to  die,  and  to  make 
no  will,  it  is  ourselves,  by  rule  and  by  right,  that 
would  lay  claim  to  his  wealth. 

Staffy:  So  we  could  do  that,  and  he  to  come 
to  his  end  in  the  bad  place,  God  save  the  mark ! 

Delia:  Would  you  say  there  would  be  no  fear 
the  Government  might  stretch  out  and  take 
charge  of  it,  saying  him  to  be  outside  of  his  reason  ? 

Ralph:    That  would  be  the  worst  of  all.     We 


n8  Darner's  Gold 

to  be  forced  to  hire  an  attorney  against  them,  till 
we  would  break  one  another  at  law. 

Delia:  He  to  be  stopping  here,  and  being  light 
in  the  brain,  it  is  likely  some  thief  travelling  the 
road  might  break  his  way  in  and  sweep  all. 

Ralph:  It  would  be  right  for  us  keep  some  sort 
of  a  watch  on  it. 

Stuffy:  What  way  would  we  be  sitting  here 
watching  it,  the  same  as  a  hen  on  a  pebble  of  flint, 
through  a  quarter  or  it  might  be  three  quarters 
of  a  year?  He  might  drag  for  a  good  while  yet, 
and  live  and  linger  into  old  days. 

Delia:  To  take  some  cross  turn  he  might,  and 
to  come  at  us  violent  and  maybe  tear  the  flesh 
from  our  bones. 

Stqffy:  It  is  best  for  us  do  nothing  so,  but  to 
leave  it  to  the  foreknowledge  of  God. 

Delia:  There  is  but  the  one  thing  to  do.  To 
bring  it  away  out  of  this  and  to  lodge  it  within 
in  my  own  house.  We  can  settle  out  a  place  under 
the  hearth. 

Staffy:  We  can  make  a  right  division  of  it  at 
such  time  as  the  end  will  come. 

Ralph:  What  way  now  will  we  bring  away  the 
crock? 

Delia:  Let  you  go  outside  and  be  watching  the 
road  while  Staffy  will  be  bringing  out  the  gold. 

Staffy:  Ah,  I  'm  not  so  limber  as  what  Ralph  is. 
There  does  be  giddiness  and  delay  in  my  feet.  It 


Darner's  Gold  119 

might  fail  me  to  heave  it  to  a  hiding  place  and  to 
bring  it  away  unknownst. 

Delia:  Let  you  go  out  so  and  be  keeping  a 
watch,  and  Ralph  will  put  it  on  the  ass-car  under 
sacks. 

Ralph:  Do  it  you.  I  am  not  of  his  own  kindred 
and  his  family.  Any  person  to  get  a  sketch  of  me 
bringing  it  away  they  might  nearly  take  myself 
to  be  a  thief. 

Delia:  We  are  doing  but  what  is  fair  and  is 
right. 

Ralph:  Maybe  so.  But  any  neighbour  to  be 
questioning  me,  it  might  be  hard  put  a  skin  on 
the  story. 

Delia:  There  is  no  person  to  do  it  but  the  one. 
(Calls  from  the  door.)  Come  in  here  from  the  shed, 
Simon  Niland,  if  the  sluggishness  is  banished  from 
your  eyesight  and  from  your  limbs. 

Simon:  (At  door.)  I  was  thinking  to  go  travel 
my  road. 

Delia:  Have  you  any  desire  to  reach  out  your 
hand  for  to  save  a  mortal  life? 

Simon:     (Coming  in.)    Whose  life  is  that  ? 

Staffy:  The  man  of  this  house  that  is  your 
uncle  and  is  owner  of  wealth  closed  up  in  a  jar. 
We  now  being  wittier  than  himself,  that  has  lost 
his  wits,  have  our  mind  made  up  to  bring  it  away. 

Simon:    Outside  of  his  knowledge  is  it? 

Staffy:    It  will  be  safe  and  well  minded  and 


120  Darner's  Gold 

lodged  in  loyal  keeping,  it  being  no  profit  to  him 
that  is  at  this  time  shook  and  blighted,  but  only 
a  danger  to  his  days. 

Delia:  The  seven  senses  to  be  going  astray  on 
him,  what  would  ail  any  tramp  or  neuk  would  be 
passing  the  road,  not  to  rob  him  and  to  lay  him 
stone  dead? 

Staffy:  Go  in  now  and  bring  out  from  the  room 
and  to  such  place  as  we  will  command,  that  gallon 
jar  of  gold. 

Ralph:  It  being  certain  it  will  be  brought 
away  from  him,  it  is  best  it  to  be  kept  in  the  family, 
and  not  to  go  nourishing  lawyers  or  thieves. 

Simon:    Is  it  to  steal  it  I  should? 

Staffy:  What  way  will  it  be  stealing,  and  the 
whole  of  us  to  be  looking  on  at  your  deed? 

Simon:  Ah,  what  call  have  I  to  do  that  much 
and  maybe  put  myself  in  danger  of  the  judge,  for 
the  sake  of  a  man  is  without  sense. 

Delia:  Let  you  do  it  for  my  own  sake  so.  You 
heard  me  giving  out  news  on  yesterday  of  the 
white  goats  are  on  the  bounds  of  being  sold. 
The  neighbours  will  give  me  no  more  credit,  where 
they  loaned  me  the  price  of  a  crested  side  car  was 
auctioned  out  at  a  quality  sale. 

Ralph:  Picking  the  eyes  out  of  my  own  head 
they  are,  to  pay  the  little  bills  they  have  against 
her. 

Delia:    I  am  no  way  greedy,  I  would  ask  neither 


Darner's  Gold  121 

food  or  bite,  I  would  not  begrudge  turning  Sunday 
into  Friday  if  I  could  but  get  my  heart's  desire. 
Such  a  thing  now  as  a  guinea-hen  would  be  bring- 
ing fashion  to  the  door,  throwing  it  a  handful  of 
yellow  meal,  and  it  in  its  speckled  plumage  giving 
out  its  foreign  call ! 

Simon:  I  have  no  mind  to  be  brought  within 
the  power  of  the  law. 

Delia:  You  that  are  near  in  blood  to  refuse  me 
so  small  an  asking,  what  chance  would  I  have 
sending  requests  to  Heaven  that  is  beyond  the 
height  of  the  clouds !  (Weeps.) 

Staffy:  That 's  the  way  with  them  that  are 
reared  poor,  they  are  the  hardest  after  to  humour, 
striving  to  bring  everything  to  their  own  way. 
But  there  's  a  class  of  people  in  the  world  would  n't 
do  a  hand's  turn,  no  more  than  the  bird  upon  the 
tree. 

Ralph:  I  wonder  you  not  to  give  in  to  us, 
when  all  the  world  knows  God  formed  young 
people  for  to  be  giving  aid  to  elder  people,  and 
beyond  all  to  them  that  are  near  to  them  in  blood. 

Staffy:  Look  now,  Simon,  let  you  be  said  and 
led  by  me.  You  having  no  great  share  of  wisdom 
we  are  wishful  to  make  a  snug  man  of  you  and  to 
put  you  on  a  right  road.  Go  in  now  and  you  will 
not  be  kept  out  of  your  own  profit  and  your  share, 
and  a  harbour  of  plenty  beyond  all. 

Simon:    It  might  be  guarded  by  a  serpent  in  a 


122  Darner's  Gold 

tree,  or  by  unnatural  things  would  be  in  the  simil- 
itude of  cats. 

Stqffy:  Ah,  that  class  is  done  away  with  this 
good  while. 

Ralph:  There  is  no  person  having  sense,  but 
would  take  means,  by  hook  or  by  crook,  to  make 
his  pocket  stiff  and  he  to  be  given  his  fair  chance. 
It  is  to  save  you  from  starvation  we  are  wishful 
to  do,  as  much  as  to  bring  profit  to  ourselves. 

Staffy:  You  not  to  follow  our  say  you  will  be 
brought  to  burn  green  ferns  to  boil  your  victuals, 
or  to  devour  the  berries  of  the  bush. 

Simon:  I  would  not  wish  a  head  to  follow  me 
and  leap  up  on  the  table  and  wrestle  me,  or  to 
drink  against  me  with  its  goryv  mouth. 

Staffy:  You  that  have  not  the  substance  of  a 
crane's  marrow,  to  go  shrink  from  so  small  a 
bidding,  let  you  go  on  the  shaughraun  or  to  the 
workhouse,  where  you  would  not  take  our  advice. 

Simon:  I  '11  go  do  your  bidding  so.  I  will  go 
bring  out  the  crock. 

Staffy:  There  is  my  whiteheaded  boy!  I  '11 
keep  a  watch,  the  way  Darner  will  not  steal  in  on 
us  without  warning. 

Ralph:  He  should  have  the  key  in  some  secret 
place.  It  is  best  for  you  give  the  lock  a  blow  of 
your  foot. 

Simon:  I  '11  do  that.  (He  gives  door  a  kick. 
It  opens  easily.} 


Darner's  Gold  123 

Delia:  Was  I  right  now  saying  Darner  is 
turned  innocent?  Sure  the  door  was  not  locked 
at  all. 

Simon:     (Dragging  out  jar.}    Here  it  is  now. 

Ralph:    So  it  is  and  no  mistake. 

Staffy:    There  should  be  great  weight  in  it. 

Ralph:  I  am  in  dread  it  might  work  a  hole  down 
through  the  timber  of  the  car. 

Delia:  Why  would  n't  we  open  it  here?  It 
would  be  handier  bringing  it  away  in  small 
divides. 

Ralph:  The  way  we  would  make  sure  of  getting 
our  own  share  at  the  last. 

Delia:    Let  you  draw  out  the  cork  from  it. 

Ralph:  I  don't  know  can  I  lift  it.  (Stoops 
and  lifts  it  easily.}  The  Lord  protect  and  save 
us!  There  is  no  weight  in  it  at  all ! 

Staffy:  (Seizing  and  shaking  it.}  Not  a  one 
penny  in  it  but  clean  empty.  That  beats  all. 

Delia:  It  is  with  banknotes  it  is  stuffed  that 
are  deaf  and  do  be  giving  out  no  sound.  (She 
Pokes  in  a  knitting  pin.}  Nothing  in  it  at  all,  but 
as  bare  as  the  canopy  of  heaven ! 

Ralph:  There  being  nothing  within  in  it, 
where  now  is  the  gold? 

Staffy:  Some  person  should  have  made  away 
with  it. 

Delia:  Some  robber  or  some  great  rogue.  A 
terrible  thing  such  ruffians  to  be  around  in  the 


124  Darner's  Gold 

world!  To  turn  and  rob  a  poor  man  of  all  he 
had  spared  and  had  earned. 

Staffy:  They  have  done  him  a  great  wrong 
surely,  taking  from  him  all  he  had  of  comfort  in 
his  life. 

Ralph:  My  grief  it  is  there  being  no  more 
hangings  for  thieves,  that  are  worse  again  than 
murderers  that  might  do  their  deed  out  of  heat. 
It  is  thieving  is  the  last  crime. 

Staffy:  We  to  lay  our  hand  on  that  vagabond 
we  '11  give  him  cruelty  will  force  him  to  Christian 
habits. 

Ralph:  Take  care  might  he  be  nearer  than 
what  you  think!  (He  points  at  Simon.  All  look 
at  him.} 

Staffy:  Sure  enough  it  is  with  himself  only  we 
found  him  on  the  hearth  this  morning. 

Delia:  He  has  n't  hardly  the  intellect  to  be 
the  thief. 

Simon:  I  tell  you  I  never  since  the  day  I  was  born 
could  be  charged  with  the  weight  of  a  brass  pin ! 

Staffy:  It  is  to  Darner,  my  fine  boy,  you  will 
have  to  make  out  your  case. 

Simon:  So  I  will  make  it  out.  Where  now  is 
Darner? 

Staffy:  He  is  gone  down  the  road,  where  he 
brought  away  Jubair  the  dog. 

Simon:  What  are  you  saying?  The  dog  gone 
is  it?  (Goes  to  door.} 


Darner's  Gold  125 

Ralph:  (Taking  hold  of  him.)  What  makes  you 
go  out  in  such  a  hurry? 

Simon:    What  is  that  to  you? 

Delia:    What  cause  has  he  to  be  making  a  run? 

Simon:    Let  me  mind  my  own  business. 

Staffy:    It  is  maybe  our  own  business. 

Simon:  To  make  a  search  I  must  in  that  dog's 
kennel  of  straw. 

Delia:  Go  out,  Ralph,  till  you  will  bring  it  in. 

(Ralph  goes  out.) 

Staffy:  (Seizing  him.)  A  man  to  go  rush  out 
headlong  and  money  after  being  stolen,  I  have  no 
mind  to  let  him  make  his  escape. 

Delia:  If  you  are  honest  let  you  stop  within 
and  not  to  put  a  bad  appearance  upon  yourself 
making  off. 

Simon:  Let  me  out !  I  tell  you  I  have  a  thing 
concealed  in  the  box. 

Staffy:  A  strange  place  to  go  hiding  things 
and  a  queer  story  altogether. 

Delia:  Do  not  let  go  your  hold.  He  to  go  out 
into  the  street,  he  has  the  wide  world  before  him. 

Ralph:  (Dragging  kennel  in.)  Here  now  is 
the  box. 

Simon:  (Breaking  away  and  searching  it.) 
Where  at  all  is  it  vanished? 

Staffy:  It  is  lies  he  was  telling.  There  is  noth- 
ing at  all  within  in  it  only  a  wisp  of  barley  straw. 

Simon:    Where  at  all  is  it? 


126  Darner's  Gold 

Staffy:    What  is  it  is  gone  from  you? 

Simon:    Not  a  one  pound  left ! 

Delia:  Why  would  you  look  to  find  coins  of 
money  down  in  Jubair's  bed  ? 

Simon:    It  is  there  I  hid  it. 

Staffy:    What  is  it  you  hid? 

Simon:  All  that  was  in  the  crock  and  that  I 
took  from  it.  Where  now  is  my  bag  of  gold? 

Staffy:    Do  you  hear  what  he  is  after  saying? 

Ralph:  A  lad  of  that  sort  will  not  be  safe  but 
in  the  gaol.  Let  us  give  him  into  the  grip  of  the 
law. 

Delia:    No,  but  let  the  man  owned  it  do  that. 

Staffy:  So  he  can  task  him  with  it,  and  he 
drawing  to  the  door. 

Delia:  (Going  to  it.)  It  is  time  for  you,  Patrick, 
come  in. 

(Darner  comes  in  dragging  a  sack.) 

Ralph:    You  are  after  being  robbed  and  left  bare. 

Delia:  Not  a  one  penny  left  of  all  you  have 
cast  into  its  mouth. 

Ralph:  Herself  made  a  prophecy  you  would  be 
robbed  with  the  weakening  of  your  wits,  and  sure 
enough  it  has  come  about. 

Delia:  Not  a  tint  of  it  left.  What  now  do  you 
say,  hearing  that? 

Darner:  (Sitting  down  by  the  hearth  and  laying 
down  sack.)  If  it  should  go  it  must  go.  That  was 
allotted  to  me  in  the  skies. 


Darner's  Gold  127 

Delia:  Is  it  that  you  had  knowledge  ere  this 
of  it  being  swept  and  lost? 

Darner:  If  I  had  not,  why  would  I  have  been 
setting  my  mind  upon  eternity  and  striving  to 
bring  to  mind  a  few  prayers?  And  to  have  parted 
with  my  wicked  dog? 

Delia:  Let  you  turn  around  till  you  will  see 
before  you  the  man  that  is  the  robber  and  the  thief ! 

Simon:  Thief  yourself!  You  that  had  a  plan 
made  up  to  bring  it  away. 

Darner:  Delia,  Delia,  what  was  I  laying  down 
a  while  ago?  It  is  the  love  of  riches  has  twisted 
your  heart  and  your  mind. 

Delia:  Is  it  that  you  are  contented  to  be  made 
this  one's  prey? 

Darner:  It  was  foretold  for  me.  I  to  go  stint 
the  body  till  I  near  put  myself  to  death  without 
the  Lord  calling  on  me,  and  to  lose  every  whole 
pound  after  in  one  night's  card  playing. 

Delia:    Is  it  at  cards  you  lost  it? 

Darner:  With  that  same  pack  of  cards  you 
laid  out  under  my  hand,  I  lost  all  I  had  gathered 
to  that  one. 

Staffy:  Well,  there  is  nothing  so  certain  in  the 
world  as  the  running  of  a  fool  to  a  fool. 

Delia:  Is  it  taking  that  lad  you  are  to  be  a 
fool?  I  thinking  him  to  be  as  simple  as  you  'd  see 
in  the  world,  and  he  putting  bread  upon  his  own 
butter  as  we  slept ! 


128  Darner's  Gold 

Ralph:  We  to  have  known  all  then  we  know 
now,  we  need  not  have  wasted  on  him  our  advice. 

Darner:  Give  me,  boy,  one  answer.  What  in 
the  world  wide  put  venture  into  you  that  made  you 
go  face  the  dog? 

Simon:  Ah,  what  venture?  And  he  being  as 
he  is  without  teeth? 

Darner:  You  know  that,  what  no  one  in  the 
parish  or  out  of  it  ever  found  out  till  now!  You 
should  have  put  your  hand  in  his  jaw  to  know  that 
much!  A  right  lad  you  are  and  a  lucky  lad.  I 
would  nearly  wish  you  of  my  own  blood  and  of 
my  race. 

Delia:    Of  your  own  blood  is  it? 

Darner:    That  is  what  I  would  wish. 

Delia:  Is  it  that  you  are  taking  Simon  Niland 
to  be  a  stranger? 

Darner:    What  Simon  Niland? 

Delia:  Your  own  nephew  and  only  son  to  your 
sister  Sarah. 

Darner:  Do  you  tell  me  so!  What  way  did  it 
fail  me  to  recognise  that,  and  he  having  daring 
and  spirit  the  same  as  used  to  be  rising  up  in 
myself  in  my  early  time? 

Delia:  He  was  born  the  very  year  of  you  com- 
ing into  possession  of  this  place. 

Darner:  The  same  year  my  luck  turned  against 
me,  and  every  horse  I  would  back  would  get  the 
staggers  on  the  course,  or  would  fail  to  rise  at  the 


Darner's  Gold  129 

leaps.  All  the  strength  of  fortune  went  from  me 
at  that  time,  it  is  into  himself  it  flowed  and  ran. 
The  dead  spit  and  image  of  myself  he  is.  Stop 
with  me  here  through  the  winter  season  and  through 
the  summer  season !  You  to  be  in  the  house  it  is 
not  an  unlucky  house  will  be  in  it.  The  Royalty  of 
England  and  of  Spain  cannot  touch  upon  yourself. 
I  am  prouder  of  you  than  if  you  wrote  the  wars  of 
Homer  or  put  down  Turgesius  of  the  Danes !  You 
are  a  lad  that  can't  be  beat.  It  is  you  are  the 
Lamb  of  Luck! 

Staffy:  What  call  has  he  or  any  of  us  to  be 
stopping  under  Darner's  roof  and  he  owning  but 
the  four  walls  presently  and  a  poor  little  valley 
of  land? 

Ralph:  There  is  nothing  worth  while  in  his 
keeping,  and  all  he  had  gathered  after  being  robbed. 

Darner:  Is  that  what  you  are  saying?  Well,  I 
am  not  so  easy  robbed  as  you  think!  (Takes  bag 
from  the  sack  and  shakes  it.}  Is  that  what  you  call 
being  robbed? 

Simon:    That  is  my  treasure  and  my  bag ! 

Staffy:  I  thought  it  was  after  being  brought 
away  from  the  two  of  you. 

Darner:  You  are  out  of  it!  It  is  Jubair  did 
that  much  for  me.  Jubair,  my  darling,  it  is  to- 
night I  '11  bring  him  back  to  the  house !  It  is  not 
in  the  box  he  will  be  any  more  but  alongside  the 
warmth  of  the  hearth.  The  time  I  went  unloosing 


130  Darner's  Gold 

his  chain,  did  n't  he  scrape  with  his  paw  till  he 
showed  me  all  I  had  lost  hid  in  under  the  straw,  and 
it  in  a  spotted  bag!  (Opens  and  pours  out  money.} 

Simon:  It  is  as  well  for  you  have  it  back  where 
it  stopped  so  short  with  myself. 

Darner:  Is  it  that  I  would  keep  it  from  you 
where  it  was  won  fair?  It  is  a  rogue  of  a  man 
would  do  that.  Where  would  be  the  use,  and  I 
knowing  you  could  win  it  back  from  me  at  your 
will,  and  the  five  trumps  coming  into  your  hand? 
It  is  to  share  it  we  will  and  share  alike,  so  long  as 
it  will  not  give  out! 

Delia:  A  little  handsel  to  myself  would  do  the 
both  of  you  no  harm  at  all. 

Darner:  Delia,  my  darling,  I  '11  go  as  far  as 
that  on  this  day  of  wonders.  I  '11  handsel  you 
and  welcome.  I  '11  bestow  on  you  the  empty  jar. 
(Gives  it  to  her.} 

Delia:  I  '11  take  it.  I  '11  let  on  it  to  be  weighty 
and  I  facing  back  into  Loughtyshassy. 

Ralph:  The  neighbours  seeing  it  and  taking 
you  to  be  his  heir  you  might  come  to  your  goats  yet. 

Delia:  Ah,  what 's  goats  and  what  is  guinea- 
hens?  Did  ever  you  see  yoked  horses  in  a  coach, 
their  skin  shining  out  like  shells,  rising  their  steps 
in  tune  the  same  as  a  patrol  of  police?  There  are 
peacocks  on  the  lawns  of  Lough  Cutra  they  were 
telling  me,  having  each  of  them  a  hundred  eyes. 
(Goes  to  door.) 


Darner's  Gold  131 

Simon:  (Putting  his  hand  on  the  jar.}  I  don't 
know.  (To  Darner]  It  might  be  a  nice  thing  for 
the  two  of  us  to  start  gathering  the  full  of  it  again. 

Darner:  Not  a  fear  of  me.  Where  heaping 
and  hoarding  that  much  has  my  years  withered 
and  blighted  up  to  this,  it  is  not  to  storing  treasure 
in  any  vessel  at  all  I  will  give  the  latter  end  of  my 
days,  or  to  working  the  skin  off  my  bones.  Give 
me  here  that  coat.  (Puts  it  on.}  If  I  was  tossed 
and  racked  a  while  ago  I  '11  show  out  good  from 
this  out.  Come  on  now,  out  of  this,  till  we  '11 
face  to  the  races  of  Loughrea  and  of  Knock- 
barron.  I  was  miserable  and  starved  long  enough. 
(Puts  on  hat.}  I  'm  thinking  as  long  as  I  '11  be 
living  I  '11  take  my  view  of  the  world,  for  it 's  long 
I  '11  be  lying  when  my  eyes  are  closed  and  seeing 
nothing  at  all ! 

(He  seizes  a  handful  of  gold  and  puts  it  in 
Simon's  pocket  and  another  in  his  own. 
They  turn  towards  the  door.} 

Curtain 


McDONOUGH'S  WIFE 


133 


PERSONS 

McDonough,  a  piper. 
First  Hag. 
Second  Hag. 


134 


McDONOUGH'S  WIFE 

Scene:  A  very  poor  room  in  Gahvay  with  outer  and 
inner  door.  Noises  of  a  fair  outside.  A  Hag 
sitting  by  the  fire.  Another  standing  by  outer 
door. 

First  Hag:  Is  there  e'er  a  sign  of  McDonough 
to  be  coming? 

Second  Hag:  There  is  not.  There  were  two 
or  three  asking  for  him,  wanting  him  to  bring  the 
pipes  to  some  spree-house  at  the  time  the  fair 
will  be  at  an  end. 

First  Hag:  A  great  wonder  he  not  to  have 
come,  and  this  the  fair  day  of  Galway. 

Second  Hag:  He  not  to  come  ere  evening,  the 
woman  that  is  dead  must  go  to  her  burying 
without  one  to  follow  her,  or  any  friend  at  all  to 
flatten  the  green  scraws  above  her  head. 

First  Hag:  Is  there  no  neighbour  at  all  will  do 
that  much,  and  she  being  gone  out  of  the  world? 

Second  Hag:  There  is  not.  You  said  to  ask 
Pat  Marlborough,  and  I  asked  him,  and  he  said 
there  were  plenty  of  decent  women  and  of  well- 
reared  women  in  Galway  he  would  follow  and  wel- 
come the  day  they  would  die,  without  paying  that 

135 


136  McDonough's  Wife 

respect  to  one  not  belonging  to  the  district,  or 
that  the  town  got  no  good  account  of  the  time  she 
came. 

First  Hag:  Did  you  do  as  I  bade  you,  asking 
Cross  Ford  to  send  in  a  couple  of  the  boys  she  has? 

Second  Hag:  What  a  fool  I  'd  be  asking  her! 
I  laid  down  to  her  the  way  it  was.  McDonough's 
wife  to  be  dead,  and  he  far  out  in  the  country,  and 
no  one  belonging  to  her  to  so  much  as  lift  the  coffin 
over  the  threshold  of  the  door. 

First  Hag:    What  did  she  say  hearing  that? 

Second  Hag:  She  put  a  big  laugh  out  of  her, 
and  it  is  what  she  said:  "May  the  devil  die  with 
her,  and  it  is  well  pleased  the  street  will  be  getting 
quit  of  her,  and  it  is  hard  say  on  what  mountain 
she  might  be  grazing  now." 

First  Hag:  There  will  no  help  come  burying 
her  so. 

Second  Hag:  It  is  too  lofty  McDonough  was, 
and  too  high-minded,  bringing  in  a  woman  was 
maybe  no  lawful  wife,  or  no  honest  child  itself, 
but  it  might  be  a  bychild  or  a  tinker's  brat,  and 
he  giving  out  no  account  of  her  generations  or  of 
her  name. 

First  Hag:  Whether  or  no,  she  was  a  little 
giddy.  But  that  is  the  way  with  McDonough. 
He  is  sometimes  an  unruly  lad,  but  he  would  near 
knock  you  with  his  pride. 

Second  Hag:    Indeed  he  is  no  way  humble,  but 


McDonough's  Wife  137 

looking  for  attendance  on  her,  as  if  she  was  the 
youngest  and  the  greatest  in  the  world. 

First  Hag:  It  is  not  to  humour  her  the  Union 
men  will,  and  they  carrying  her  to  where  they  will 
sink  her  into  the  ground,  unless  it  might  be 
McDonough  would  come  back,  and  he  having 
money  in  his  hand,  to  bring  in  some  keeners  and 
some  hired  men. 

Second  Hag:  He  to  come  back  at  this  time  it  is 
certain  he  will  bring  a  fist-full  of  money. 

First  Hag:  What  makes  you  say  that  to  be 
certain? 

Second  Hag:  A  troop  of  sheep-shearers  that  are 
on  the  west  side  of  the  fair,  looking  for  hire  from 
the  grass  farmers.  I  heard  them  laying  down 
they  met  with  McDonough  at  the  big  shearing  at 
Cregroostha. 

First  Hag:    What  day  was  that? 

Second  Hag:    This  day  week  for  the  world. 

First  Hag:  He  has  time  and  plenty  to  be  back 
in  Galway  ere  this. 

Second  Hag:  Great  dancing  they  had  and  a 
great  supper  at  the  time  the  shearing  was  at  an 
end  and  the  fleeces  lodged  in  the  big  sacks.  It  is 
McDonough  played  his  music  through  the  night- 
time. It  is  what  I  heard  them  saying,  "He 
went  out  of  that  place  weightier  than  he  went 
in." 

First  Hag:    He  is  a  great  one  to  squeeze  the 


138  McDonough's  Wife 

pipes  surely.  There  is  no  place  ever  he  went  into 
but  he  brought  the  whip  out  of  it. 

Second  Hag:  His  father  was  better  again,  they 
do  be  saying.  It  was  from  the  other  side  he  got 
the  gift. 

First  Hag:  He  did,  and  from  beyond  the  world, 
where  he  befriended  some  in  the  forths  of  the 
Danes.  It  was  they  taught  him  their  trade.  I 
heard  tell,  he  to  throw  the  pipes  up  on  top  of  the 
rafters,  they  would  go  sounding  out  tunes  of  them- 
selves. 

Second  Hag:  He  could  do  no  more  with  them 
than  what  McDonough  himself  can  do — may  ill 
luck  attend  him!  It  is  inhuman  tunes  he  does 
be  making;  unnatural  they  are. 

First  Hag:    He  is  a  great  musician  surely. 

Second  Hag:  There  is  no  person  can  be  safe 
from  him  the  time  he  will  put  his  "  come  hither  " 
upon  them.  I  give  you  my  word  he  set  myself 
dancing  reels  one  time  in  the  street,  and  I  making 
an  attack  on  him  for  keeping  the  little  lads  miching 
from  school.  That  was  a  great  scandal  to  put 
upon  a  decent  woman. 

First  Hag:  He  to  be  in  the  fair  to-day  and  to 
take  the  fancy,  you  would  hear  the  nailed  boots 
of  the  frieze-coated  man  footing  steps  on  the 
sidewalk. 

Second  Hag:  You  would,  and  it 's  likely  he  'd 
play  a  notion  into  the  skulls  of  the  pampootied 


McDonough's  Wife  139 

boys  from  Aran,  they  to  be  kings  of  France  or  of 
Germany,  till  they  'd  go  lift  their  head  to  the  clouds 
and  go  knocking  all  before  them.  And  the  police 
it  is  likely  laughing  with  themselves,  as  if  listening 
to  the  talk  of  the  blackbird  would  be  perched  upon 
a  blessed  bush. 

First  Hag:  I  wonder  he  did  not  come.  Could 
it  be  he  might  be  made  away  with  for  the  riches 
he  brought  from  Cregroostha?  It  would  be  a 
strange  thing  now,  he  to  be  lying  and  his  head 
broke,  at  the  butt  of  a  wall,  and  the  woman  he 
thought  tho  whole  world  of  to  be  getting  her  burial 
from  the  workhouse. 

(.4  sound  of  pipes.) 

Second  Hag:  Whist,  I  tell  you!  It 's  the  sound 
of  the  pipes.  It  is  McDonough,  it  is  no  other  one. 

First  Hag:  (Getting  up.)  I  'm  in  dread  of  him 
coming  in  the  house.  He  is  a  hasty  man  and 
wicked,  and  he  vexed.  What  at  all  will  he  say 
and  she  being  dead  before  him?  Whether  or  no, 
it  will  be  a  sharp  grief  to  him,  she  to  scatter  and 
to  go.  He  might  give  me  a  backstroke  and  drive 
me  out  from  the  door. 

Second  Hag:  Let  you  make  an  attack  upon 
himself  before  he  will  have  time  to  make  his  own 
attack. 

McDonough:  (Coming  in.)  Catherine !  Where 
is  she?  Where  is  Catherine? 

First  Hag:    Is  it  readying  the  dinner  before  you, 


140  McDonough's  Wife 

or  wringing  out  a  shirt  for  the  Sunday  like  any 
good  slave  of  a  wife,  you  are  used  to  find  your 
woman,  McDonough? 

McDonough:  What  call  would  she  have  stop- 
ping in  the  house  with  the  withered  like  of  yourself? 
It  is  not  to  the  crabbed  talk  of  a  peevish  hag  a 
handsome  young  woman  would  wish  to  be  listening 
and  sport  and  funning  being  in  the  fair  outside. 

First  Hag:  Go  look  for  her  in  the  fair  so,  if  it 
is  gadding  up  and  down  is  her  habit,  and  you  being 
gone  out  from  her  sight. 

McDonough:  (Shaking  her.}  Tell  me  out, 
where  is  she? 

First  Hag:  Tell  out  what  harbour  were  you 
yourself  in  from  the  day  you  left  Cregroostha? 

McDonough:  Is  it  that  she  got  word? — or  that 
she  was  tired  waiting  for  me? 

First  Hag:  She  is  gone  away  from  you,  Mc- 
Donough. 

McDonough:    That  is  a  lie,  a  black  lie. 

First  Hag:  Throwing  a  lie  in  a  decent  woman's 
face  will  not  bring  you  to  the  truth. 

McDonough:  Is  it  what  you  are  laying  down 
that  she  went  away  with  some  other  man?  Say 
that  out  if  you  have  courage,  and  I  '11  wring  your 
yellow  windpipe. 

First  Hag:  Leave  your  hand  off  me  and  open 
the  room  door,  and  you  will  see  am  I  telling  you 
any  lie. 


McDonough's  Wife  141 

McDonough:  (Goes  to  door,  then  stops.)  She  is 
not  in  it.  She  would  have  come  out  before  me, 
and  she  hearing  the  sound  of  the  pipes. 

First  Hag:  It  is  not  the  sound  of  the  pipes 
will  rouse  her,  or  any  sound  made  in  this  world  at 
all. 

McDonough:    (Trembling.)    What  is  it? 

First  Hag:    She  is  gone  and  she  is  not  living. 

McDonough:    Is  it  to  die  she  did ?    (Clutches  her.) 

First  Hag:  Yesterday,  and  the  bells  ringing, 
she  turned  her  face  to  the  south  and  died  away. 
It  was  at  the  hour  of  noon  I  knew  and  was  aware 
she  was  gone.  A  great  loss  it  to  be  at  the  time  of 
the  fair,  and  all  the  lodgers  that  would  have  come 
into  the  house. 

McDonough:  It  is  not  truth.  What  would 
ail  her  to  die? 

First  Hag:  The  makings  of  a  child  that  came 
before  its  time,  God  save  the  mark!  She  made  a 
bad  battle  at  the  last. 

McDonough:  What  way  did  it  fail  you  to  send 
me  out  messengers  seeking  me  when  you  knew  her 
to  be  done  and  dying? 

First  Hag:  I  thought  she  would  drag  another 
while.  There  was  no  time  for  the  priest  itself  to 
overtake  her,  or  to  put  the  little  dress  of  the  Virgin 
in  her  hand  at  the  last  gasp  of  death. 

(McDonough  goes  into  the  room.     He  comes 
out  as  if  affrighted,  leans  his  head  against 


142  McDonough's  Wife 

the  wall,  and  breaks  into  a  prayer  in 
Irish:  "An  Athair  tha  in  Naomh,  dean 
trocaire  orainn!  A  Dia  Righ  an  Dom- 
hain,  dean  trocaire  orainn!  A  Mhuire 
Mathair  Dia,  dean  trocaire  orainn!  ") 

Second  Hag:  (Venturing  near.}  Do  not  go 
fret  after  her,  McDonough.  She  could  not  go 
through  the  world  forever,  and  travelling  the 
world.  It  might  be  that  trouble  went  with  her. 

McDonough:  Get  out  of  that,  you  hags,  you 
witches  you !  You  croaking  birds  of  ill  luck !  It  is 
much  if  I  will  leave  you  in  the  living  world,  and 
you  not  to  have  held  back  death  from  her! 

Second  Hag:  That  you  may  never  be  cross  till 
you  will  meet  with  your  own  death!  What  way 
could  any  person  do  that? 

McDonough:  Get  out  the  door  and  it  will  be 
best  for  you! 

Second  Hag:  You  are  talking  fool's  talk  and 
giving  out  words  that  are  foolishness!  There  is 
no  one  at  all  can  put  away  from  his  road  the  bones 
and  the  thinness  of  death. 

McDonough:  I  to  have  been  in  it  he  would  not 
have  come  under  the  lintel!  Ugly  as  he  is  and 
strong,  I  would  be  able  for  him  and  would  wrestle 
with  him  and  drag  him  asunder  and  put  him  down ! 
Before  I  would  let  him  lay  his  sharp  touch  on  her 
I  would  break  and  would  crush  his  naked  ribs, 
and  would  burn  them  to  lime  and  scatter  them ! 


McDonough's  Wife  143 

First  Hag:  Where  is  the  use  raving?  It  is 
best  for  you  to  turn  your  hand  to  the  thing  has 
to  be  done. 

McDonough:  You  to  have  stood  in  his  path  he 
might  have  brought  you  away  in  her  place !  That 
much  would  be  no  great  thing  to  ask,  and  your 
life  being  dead  and  in  ashes. 

First  Hag:  Quieten  yourself  now  where  it  was 
the  will  of  God.  She  herself  made  no  outcry  and 
no  ravings.  I  did  my  best  for  her,  laying  her  out 
and  putting  a  middling  white  sheet  around  her. 
I  went  so  far  as  to  smoothen  her  hair  on  the  two 
sides  of  her  face. 

McDonough:  (Turning  to  inner  door.)  Is  it 
that  you  are  gone  from  me,  Catherine,  you  that 
were  the  blossom  of  the  branch ! 

(Old  woman  moans.) 

It  is  a  bad  case  you  to  have  gone  and  to  have 
left  me  as  lonesome  after  you  as  that  no  one  ever 
saw  the  like! 

( The  old  woman  moans  after  each  sentence.) 

I  to  bring  you  travelling  you  were  the  best 
traveller,  and  the  best  stepper,  and  the  best  that 
ever  faced  the  western  blast,  and  the  waves  of  it 
blowing  from  you  the  shawl !  I  to  be  sore  in  the 
heart  with  walking  you  would  make  a  smile  of  a 
laugh.  I  would  not  feel  the  road  having  your 
company ;  I  would  walk  every  whole  step  of  Ireland. 

I  to  bring  you  to  the  dance-house  you  would 


144  McDonough's  Wife 

dance  till  you  had  them  all  tired,  the  same  in  the 
late  of  the  day  as  in  the  commencement!  Your 
steps  following  quick  on  one  another  the  same  as 
hard  rain  on  a  flagstone!  They  could  not  find 
your  equal  in  all  Ireland  or  in  the  whole  ring  of 
Connemara ! 

What  way  did  it  fail  me  to  see  the  withering  of 
the  branches  on  every  bush,  as  it  is  certain  they 
withered  the  time  laughter  died  with  your  laugh? 
The  cold  of  winter  has  settled  on  the  hearth.  My 
heart  is  closed  up  with  trouble ! 

First  Hag:  It  is  best  for  us  shut  the  door  and  to 
keep  out  the  noises  of  the  fair. 

McDonough:  Ah,  what  sort  at  all  are  the  people 
of  the  fair,  to  be  doing  their  bargaining  and  clutch- 
ing after  their  luckpenny,  and  she  being  stark 
and  quiet ! 

First  Hag:  She  has  to  be  buried  ere  evening. 
There  was  a  messenger  of  a  clerk  came  laying  that 
down. 

McDonough:  May  ill  luck  attend  him!  Is  it 
that  he  thinks  she  that  is  gone  has  no  person  be- 
longing to  her  to  wake  her  through  the  night- 
time? 

First  Hag:  He  sent  his  men  to  coffin  her.  She 
will  be  brought  away  in  the  heel  of  the  day. 

McDonough:  It  is  a  great  wake  I  will  give  her. 
It  would  not  be  for  honour  she  to  go  without  that 
much.  Cakes  and  candles  and  drink  and  tobacco! 


McDonough's  Wife  [  145 

The  table  of  this  house  is  too  narrow.  It  is  from 
the  neighbours  we  should  borrow  tables. 

First  Hag:  That  cannot  be.  It  is  what  the 
man  said,  "  This  is  a  common  lodging-house.  It 
is  right  to  banish  the  dead  from  the  living."  He 
has  the  law  with  him,  and  custom.  There  is  no 
use  you  thinking  to  go  outside  of  that. 

McDonough:  My  lasting  grief  it  will  be  I  not 
to  get  leave  to  show  her  that  respect ! 

First  Hag:  "There  will  a  car  be  sent,"  he  said, 
"and  two  boys  from  the  Union  for  to  bear  her  out 
from  the  house." 

McDonough:  Men  from  the  Union,  are  you 
saying?  I  would  not  give  leave  to  one  of  them  to 
put  a  hand  anigh  or  anear  her !  It  is  not  their  car 
will  bring  her  to  the  grave.  That  would  be  the 
most  pity  in  the  world! 

First  Hag:  You  have  no  other  way  to  bring 
her  on  her  road.  It  is  best  for  you  give  in  to  their 
say. 

McDonough:  Where  are  the  friends  and  the 
neighbours  that  they  would  not  put  a  hand  under 
her? 

First  Hag:  They  are  after  making  their  refusal. 
She  was  not  well  liked  in  Galway.  There  is  no 
one  will  come  to  her  help. 

McDonough:  Is  that  truth,  or  is  it  lies  you  have 
made  up  for  my  tormenting? 

First  Hag:    It  is  no  lie  at  all.     It  is  as  sure  as 


146  McDonough's  Wife 

the  winter's  frost.  You  have  no  one  to  draw  to 
but  yourself. 

McDonough:  It  is  mad  jealous  the  women  of 
Galway  were  and  wild  with  anger,  and  she  coming 
among  them,  that  was  seventeen  times  better  than 
their  best!  My  bitter  grief  I  ever  to  have  come 
next  or  near  them,  or  to  have  made  music  for  the 
lugs  or  for  the  feet  of  wide  crooked  hags!  That 
they  may  dance  to  their  death  to  the  devil's  pipes 
and  be  the  disgrace  of  the  world!  It  is  a  great 
slur  on  Ireland  and  a  great  scandal  they  to  have 
made  that  refusing!  That  the  Corrib  River  may 
leave  its  merings  and  rise  up  out  of  its  banks  till 
the  waves  will  rise  like  mountains  over  the  town 
and  smother  it,  with  all  thatds  left  of  its  tribes! 

First  Hag:  Be  whist  now,  or  they  will  be  angered 
and  they  hearing  you  outside  in  the  fair. 

McDonough:  Let  their  day  not  thrive  with  the 
buyers  and  the  sellers  in  the  fair!  The  curse  of 
mildew  on  the  tillage  men,  that  every  grain  of 
seed  they  have  sowed  may  be  rotten  in  the  ridges, 
and  the  grass  corn  blasted  from  the  east  before 
the  latter  end  of  harvest !  The  curse  of  the  dead 
on  the  herds  driving  cattle  and  following  after 
markets  and  fairs!  My  own  curse  on  the  big 
farmers  slapping  and  spitting  in  their  deal !  That 
a  blood  murrain  may  fall  upon  their  bullocks! 
That  rot  may  fall  upon  their  flocks  and  maggots 
make  them  their  pasture  and  their  prey  between 


McDonough's  Wife  147 

this  and  the  great  feast  of  Christmas!  It  is  my 
grief  every  hand  in  the  fair  not  to  be  set  shaking 
and  be  crookened,  where  they  were  not  stretched 
out  in  friendship  to  the  fair-haired  woman  that  is 
left  her  lone  within  boards ! 

Second  Hag:  (At  door.)  Is  it  a  niggard  you 
are  grown  to  be,  McDonough,  and  you  with  riches 
in  your  hand?  Is  it  against  a  new  wedding  you 
are  keeping  your  pocket  stiff,  or  to  buy  a  house 
and  an  estate,  that  it  fails  you  to  call  in  hired 
women  to  make  a  right  keening,  and  a  few  decent 
boys  to  lift  her  through  the  streets? 

McDonough:  I  to  have  money  or  means  in  my 
hand,  I  would  ask  no  help  or  be  beholden  to  any 
one  at  all. 

Second  Hag:  If  you  had  means,  is  it?  I  heard 
by  true  telling  that  you  have  money  and  means. 
"At  the  sheep-shearers'  dance  a  high  lady  held 
the  plate  for  the  piper;  a  sovereign  she  put  in  it 
out  of  her  hand,  and  there  was  no  one  of  the  big 
gentry  but  followed  her.  There  never  was  seen 
so  much  riches  in  any  hall  or  home."  Where 
now  is  the  fifty  gold  sovereigns  you  brought  away 
from  Cregroostha? 

McDonough:    Where  is  it? 

Second  Hag:  Is  it  that  you  would  begrudge  it 
to  the  woman  is  inside? 

McDonough:  You  know  well  I  would  not 
begrudge  it. 


148  McDonough's  Wife 

First  Hag:  A  queer  thing  you  to  speak  so  stiff 
and  to  be  running  down  all  around  you,  and  your 
own  pocket  being  bulky  the  while. 

McDonough:  (Turning  out  pocket.}  It  is  as 
slack  and  as  empty  as  when  I  went  out  from  this. 

Second  Hag:  You  could  not  have  run  through 
that  much. 

McDonough:  Not  a  red  halfpenny  left,  or  so 
much  as  the  image  of  a  farthing. 

First  Hag:  Is  it  robbed  and  plundered  you 
were,  and  you  walking  the  road? 

McDonough:  (Sitting  down  and  rocking  him- 
self.) I  wish  to  my  God  it  was  some  robber 
stripped  and  left  me  bare !  Robbed  and  plundered ! 
I  was  that,  and  by  the  worst  man  and  the  unkindest 
that  ever  was  joined  to  a  woman  or  lost  a  woman, 
and  that  is  myself. 

First  Hag:    Is  it  to  lose  it  unknownst  you  did? 

McDonough:  What  way  did  I  lose  it,  is  it? 
I  lost  it  knowingly  and  of  my  own  will.  Thrown 
on  counters,  thrown  on  the  drink-house  floor, 
given  for  spirits,  given  for  porter,  thrown  for 
drink  for  friends  and  acquaintances,  for  strangers 
and  strollers  and  vagabonds.  Scattered  in  the 
parish  of  Ardrahan  and  at  Labane  cross.  Tramps 
and  schemers  lying  drunk  and  dead  drunk  at  the 
butt  of  every  wall.  (Buries  head  in  his  hands.) 

First  Hag:  That  is  what  happened  the  gold 
yourself  and  the  pipes  had  won?  You  made  no 


McDonough's  Wife  149 

delay  doing  that  much.  You  have  a  great  wrong 
done  to  the  woman  inside,  where  you  left  her 
burying  bare. 

Second  Hag:  She  to  be  without  a  farthing 
dip  for  her  corpse,  and  you  after  lavishing 
gold. 

First  Hag:  You  have  a  right  to  bruise  your 
knees  making  repentance,  you  that  lay  on  the  one 
pillow  with  her.  You  to  be  putting  curses  upon 
others  and  making  attacks  on  them!  I  would 
make  no  complaint,  you  to  be  naked  at  your  own 
burying  and  at  the  very  hour  of  death,  and  the 
rain  falling  down  on  your  head. 

McDonough:  Little  I  mind  what  happens  me. 
There  is  no  word  you  can  put  out  of  your  mouth 
can  do  me  any  injury  at  all.  Oh,  Catherine,  it  is 
best  for  me  go  hang  myself  out  of  a  tree,  and  my 
carcass  to  be  torn  by  savage  dogs  that  went  fam- 
ished through  a  great  length  of  time,  and  my  bones 
left  without  a  token  or  a  flag  or  a  headstone,  and 
my  name  that  was  up  at  one  time  to  be  forgotten 
out  of  mind!  (He  bursts  out  sobbing.) 

First  Hag:  The  shadows  should  be  lengthening 
in  the  street.  Look  out  would  you  see  the  car  to 
be  coming. 

Second  Hag:  It  was  a  while  ago  at  the  far 
corner  of  the  fair.  They  were  but  waiting  for  the 
throng  to  lessen. 

First  Hag:    They  are  making  too  much  delay. 


150  McDonough's  Wife 

Second  Hag:  I  see  a  hint  of  the  livery  of  the 
poorhouse  coming  through  the  crowd. 

First  Hag:  The  men  of  the  Union  are  coming 
to  bring  her  away,  McDonough.  There  is  nothing 
more  to  be  done.  She  will  get  her  burial  from  the 
rates. 

McDonough:  Oh,  Catherine,  Catherine!  Is  it 
I  myself  have  brought  you  to  that  shame  and  that 
disgrace ! 

Second  Hag:  You  are  making  too  much  of  it. 
Little  it  will  signify,  and  we  to  be  making  clay, 
who  was  it  dug  a  hole  through  the  nettles  or  lifted 
down  the  sods  over  our  head. 

First  Hag:  That  is  so.  What  signifies  she  to 
be  followed  or  to  be  going  her  lone,  and  her  eyes 
being  shut  to  the  world? 

McDonough:  Is  that  the  thought  ye  have 
within  ye,  ye  Galway  hags?  It  is  easy  known  it 
is  in  a  trader's  town  you  were  bred,  and  in  a  street 
among  dealers. 

First  Hag:  I  was  but  saying  it  does  not 
signify. 

McDonough:  But  I  say  it  does  signify!  I  will 
tell  that  out  to  you  and  the  world!  That  might 
be  the  thought  of  a  townsman  or  a  trader,  or  a 
rich  merchant  itself  that  had  his  estate  gained  by 
trafficking,  for  that  is  a  sort  does  be  thinking  more 
of  what  they  can  make  out  of  the  living  than  of 
keeping  a  good  memory  of  the  dead ! 


McDonough's  Wife  151 

First  Hag:  There  are  worthier  men  than 
yourself,  maybe,  in  storehouses  and  in  shops. 

McDonough:  But  I  am  of  the  generations  of 
Orpheus,  and  have  in  me  the  breed  of  his  master! 
And  of  Raftery  and  Carolan  and  O'Daly  and  all 
that  made  sounds  of  music  from  this  back  to  the 
foundations  of  the  earth!  And  as  to  the  rich  of 
the  world,  I  would  not  humble  my  head  to  them. 
Let  them  have  their  serving  men  and  their  labour- 
ers and  messengers  will  do  their  bidding.  But  the 
servant  I  myself  command  is  the  pipes  that  draws 
its  breath  from  the  four  winds,  and  from  a  wind 
is  beyond  them  again,  and  at  the  back  of  the  winds 
of  the  air.  She  was  a  wedded  woman  and  a  woman 
having  my  own  gold  ring  on  her  hand,  and  my 
own  name  put  down  with  hers  in  the  book.  But 
she  tc  have  been  a  shameless  woman  as  ye  make 
her  out  to  be,  and  sold  from  tinker  to  tinker  on  the 
road  it  is  all  one!  I  will  show  Galway  and  the 
world  that  it  does  signify;  that  it  is  not  fitting 
McDonough's  wife  to  travel  without  company 
and  good  hands  under  her  and  good  following  on 
the  road.  Play  now,  pipes,  if  you  never  played 
before!  Call  to  the  keeners  to  follow  her  with 
screams  and  beating  of  the  hands  and  calling  out ! 
Set  them  crying  now  with  your  sound  and  with 
your  notes,  as  it  is  often  you  brought  them  to  the 
dance-house !  (Goes  out  and  plays  a  lament  outside.) 

First  Hag:     (Looking  out.)     It  is   queer  and 


152  McDonough's  Wife 

wild  he  is,  cutting  his  teeth  and  the  hair  standing 
on  him. 

Second  Hag:  Some  high  notion  he  has,  calling 
them  to  show  honour  to  her  as  if  she  was  the 
Queen  of  the  Angels. 

First  Hag:  To  draw  to  silence  the  whole  fair 
did.  Every  person  is  moving  towards  this  house. 
(A  murmur  as  of  people.  McDonough  comes 
in,  stands  at  door,  looking  out.) 

McDonough:  I  squeeze  the  pipes  as  a  challenge 
to  the  whole  of  the  fair,  gentle  noble  and  simple, 
the  poor  and  the  high  up.  Come  hither  and  cry 
Catherine  McDonough,  give  a  hand  to  carry  her 
to  the  grave !  Come  to  her  aid,  tribes  of  Galway, 
Lynches  and  Blakes  and  Frenches !  McDonough's 
pipes  give  you  that  command,  that  have  learned 
the  lamentation  of  the  Danes. 

Come  follow  her  on  the  road,  trades  of  Galway, 
the  fishermen,  and  the  carpenters,  and  the  weavers ! 
It  is  by  no  short  road  we  will  carry  her  that  never 
will  walk  any  road  from  this  out!  By  Williams- 
gate,  beside  Lynch's  gallows,  beside  the  gaol  of 
the  hangings,  the  salmon  will  make  their  leap  as 
we  pass! 

Men  at  Door:  We  will.  We  will  follow  her, 
McDonough. 

Others:    Give  us  the  first  place. 

Others:    We  ourselves  will  carry  her! 

McDonough:    Faith,  Catherine,  you  have  your 


McDonough's  Wife  153 

share  and  your  choice  this  day  of  fine  men, 
asking  to  carry  you  and  to  lend  you  their 
strength. 

I  will  give  no  leave  to  traffickers  to  put  their 
shoulder  under  you,  or  to  any  that  made  a  refusal, 
or  any  seaside  man  at  all. 

I  will  give  leave  to  no  one  but  the  sheep-shearers 
from  Eserkelly,  from  Moneen  and  Cahirlinny  and 
the  whole  stretch  of  Cregroostha.  It  is  they  have 
friendship  for  music,  it  is  they  have  a  wish  for  my 
four  bones. 

(Sheep-shearers  come  in.  They  are  dressed 
in  white  flannel.  Each  has  a  pair  of 
shears  at  his  side.  The  first  carries  a 
crook.} 

First  Sheep-shearer:  Is  it  within  there  she  is, 
McDonough? 

First  Hag:  Go  in  through  the  door.  The  boards 
are  around  her  and  a  clean  quilt  over  them.  Have 
a  care  not  to  leave  down  your  hands  on  it,  and 
they  maybe  being  soiled  with  the  fair. 

(They  take  off  their  hats  and  go  in.} 

McDonough:  (Turning  to  her  door.}  If  you 
got  no  great  honour  from  your  birth  up,  and  went 
barefoot  through  the  first  of  your  youth,  you  will 
get  great  respect  now  and  will  be  remembered  in 
the  times  to  come. 

There  is  many  a  lady  dragging  silk  skirts 
through  the  lawns  and  the  flower  knots  of  Con- 


154  McDonough's  Wife 

nacht,  will  get  no  such  grand  gathering  of  people 
at  the  last  as  you  are  getting  on  this  day. 

It  is  the  story  of  the  burying  of  McDonough's 
wife  will  be  written  in  the  book  of  the  people ! 

(Sheep-shearers  appear  at  inner  door.  Mc- 
Donough  goes  out,  squeezing  the  pipes. 
Triumphant  music  is  heard  from  out- 
side.} 

Curtain 


NOTES 
THE  BOGIE  MEN 

A  MESSAGE  sent  to  America  from  Dublin  that  our 
Theatre  had  been  "driven  out  with  hisses  " ;  an  answer- 
ing message  from  New  York  that  the  Playboy,  the 
cause  of  battle,  was  now  "as  dead  as  a  doornail,"  set 
me  musing  with  renewed  delight  on  our  incorrigible 
genius  for  myth-making,  the  faculty  that  makes  our 
traditional  history  a  perpetual  joy,  because  it  is,  like 
the  Sidhe,  an  eternal  Shape-changer. 

At  Philadelphia,  the  city  of  trees,  where  in  spite  of 
a  day  in  the  police  court  and  before  a  judge,  and  the 
arrest  of  our  players  at  the  suit  not  of  a  Puritan  but 
a  publican,  and  the  throwing  of  currant  cake  with 
intent  to  injure,  I  received  very  great  personal  kind- 
ness, a  story  of  his  childhood  told  by  my  host  gave  me 
a  fable  on  which  to  hang  my  musings ;  and  the  Dublin 
enthusiast  and  the  American  enthusiast  who  inter- 
changed so  many  compliments  and  made  so  brave  a 
show  to  one  another,  became  Dermot  and  Timothy, 
"  two  harmless  drifty  lads,"  the  Bogie  Men  of  my  little 
play.  They  were  to  have  been  vagrants,  tatterde- 
malions, but  I  needed  some  dress  the  change  of  which 
would  change  their  whole  appearance  in  a  moment, 
and  there  came  to  mind  the  chimney  sweepers  of  my 
childhood. 


156 


Notes 


They  used  to  come  trotting  the  five  miles  from 
Loughrea,  little  fellows  with  blue  eyes  shining  out 
from  soot-black  faces,  wearing  little  soot-coloured 
smocks.  Our  old  doctor  told  us  he  had  gone  to  see 
one  of  them  who  was  sick,  and  had  found  him  lying  in 
a  box,  with  soot  up  to  his  chin  as  bedding  and  blanket. 

Not  many  years  ago  a  decent  looking  man  came  to 
my  door,  with  I  forget  what  request.  He  told  me  he 
had  heard  of  ghosts  and  fairies,  but  had  never  met 
with  anything  worse  than  himself,  but  that  he  had 
had  one  great  fright  in  his  lifetime.  Its  cause  had 
been  the  squealing  and  outcry  made  by  two  rats 
caught  in  one  trap,  that  had  come  clattering  down  a 
flight  of  steps  one  time  when  he  was  a  little  lad,  and 
had  come  sweeping  chimneys  to  Roxborough. 

AIR  OP  "ALL  AROUND  MY  HAT  I  WILL  WEAR  A 
GREEN  RIBBON!" 


THE  FULL  MOON 

It  had  sometimes  preyed  on  my  mind  that  Hyacinth 
Halvey  had  been  left  by  me  in  Cloon  for  his  lifetime, 
bearing  the  weight  of  a  character  that  had  been  put  on 
him  by  force.  But  it  failed  me  to  release  him  by 
reason,  that  "binds  men  to  the  wheel";  it  took  the 


Notes  157 

call  of  some  of  those  unruly  ones  who  give  in  to  no 
limitations,  and  dance  to  the  sound  of  music  that  is 
outside  this  world,  to  bring  him  out  from  "roast  and 
boiled  and  all  the  comforts  of  the  day."  Where  he 
is  now  I  do  not  know,  but  anyway  he  is  free. 

Tannian's  dog  has  now  become  a  protagonist;  and 
Bartley  Fallon  and  Shawn  Early  strayed  in  from  the 
fair  green  of  Spreading  the  News,  and  Mrs.  Broderick 
from  the  little  shop  where  The  Jackdaw  hops  on  the 
counter,  as  witnesses  to  the  miracle  that  happened  in 
Hyacinth's  own  inside;  and  it  is  likely  they  may  be 
talking  of  it  yet ;  for  the  talks  of  Cloon  are  long  talks, 
and  the  histories  told  there  do  not  lessen  or  fail. 

As  to  Davideen's  song,  I  give  the  air  of  it  below. 
The  Queen  Anne  in  it  was  no  English  queen,  but,  as 
I  think,  that  Aine  of  the  old  gods  at  whose  hill  mad 
dogs  were  used  to  gather,  and  who  turned  to  grey  the 
yellow  hair  of  Finn  of  the  Fianna  of  Ireland.  It  is 
with  some  thought  of  her  in  their  mind  that  the 
history-tellers  say  "Anne  was  not  fair  like  the  Georges 
but  very  bad  and  a  tyrant.  She  tyrannised  over  the 
Irish.  She  was  very  wicked ;  oh !  very  wicked  indeed ! ' ' 

AIR  OF  "  THE  HEATHER  BROOM!" 


\^-l^& 


2 


jr  '  ^ffciTjE'  j^fgt1 


M-J  J  I J  J  j  I  j    J  Ff=j  J  IJ  J  j  lj^«M 

A  J  J  jj-ir  p  J  i  ^  J  j  i  J  J  j  i  j   11 


158  Notes 

COATS 

I  find  some  bald  little  notes  I  made  before  writing 
Coats.  "Hazel  is  astonished  Mineog  can  take  such 
a  thing  to  heart,  but  it  is  quite  different  when  he 
himself  is  offended."  "The  quarrel  is  so  violent  you 
think  it  can  never  be  healed,  but  the  ordinary  cir- 
cumstances of  life  force  reconciliation.  They  are 
the  most  powerful  force  of  all."  And  then  a  quota- 
tion from  Nietzsche,  "A  good  war  justifies  every 
cause." 

DAMER'S  GOLD 

In  a  lecture  I  gave  last  year  on  playwriting  I  said 
I  had  been  forced  to  write  comedy  because  it  was 
wanted  for  our  theatre,  to  put  on  at  the  end  of  the 
verse  plays,  but  that  I  think  tragedy  is  easier.  For, 
I  said,  tragedy  shows  humanity  in  the  grip  of  cir- 
cumstance, of  fate,  of  what  our  people  call  "the  thing 
will  happen,"  "the  Woman  in  the  Stars  that  does  all." 
There  is  a  woman  in  the  stars  they  say,  who  is  always 
hurting  herself  in  one  way  or  other,  and  according  to 
what  she  is  doing  at  the  hour  of  your  birth,  so  will  it 
happen  to  you  in  your  lifetime,  whether  she  is  hanging 
herself  or  drowning  herself  or  burning  herself  in  the 
fire.  ' '  And, ' '  said  an  old  man  who  was  telling  me  this, 
"I  am  thinking  she  was  doing  a  great  deal  of  acting  at 
the  time  I  myself  made  my  start  in  the  world."  Well, 
you  put  your  actor  in  the  grip  of  this  woman,  in  the 
claws  of  the  cat.  Once  in  that  grip  you  know  what  the 
end  must  be.  You  may  let  your  hero  kick  or  struggle, 


Notes  159 

but  he  is  in  the  claws  all  the  time,  it  is  a  mere  question 
as  to  how  nearly  you  will  let  him  escape,  and  when  you 
will  allow  the  pounce.  Fate  itself  is  the  protagonist, 
your  actor  cannot  carry  much  character,  it  is  out  of 
place.  You  do  not  want  to  know  the  character  of  a 
wrestler  you  see  trying  his  strength  at  a  show. 

In  writing  a  little  tragedy,  The  Gaol  Gate,  I  made 
the  scenario  in  three  lines,  "He  is  an  informer;  he  is 
dead;  he  is  hanged."  I  wrote  that  play  very  quickly. 
My  two  poor  women  were  in  the  clutch  of  the  Woman 
in  the  Stars.  ...  I  knew  what  I  was  going  to  do  and 
I  was  able  to  keep  within  those  three  lines.  But  in 
comedy  it  is  different.  Character  comes  in,  and  why 
it  is  so  I  cannot  explain,  but  as  soon  as  one  creates  a 
character,  he  begins  to  put  out  little  feet  of  his  own 
and  take  his  own  way. 

I  had  been  meditating  for  a  long  time  past  on  the 
mass  of  advice  that  is  given  one  by  friends  and  well- 
wishers  and  relations,  advice  that  would  be  excellent 
if  the  giver  were  not  ignorant  so  often  of  the  one 
essential  in  the  case,  the  one  thing  that  matters. 
But  there  is  usually  something  out  of  sight,  of  which 
the  adviser  is  unaware,  it  may  be  something  half 
mischievously  hidden  from  him,  it  may  be  that  "secret 
of  the  heart  with  God"  that  is  called  religion.  In 
the  whole  course  of  our  work  at  the  theatre  we  have 
been  I  may  say  drenched  with  advice  by  friendly 
people  who  for  years  gave  us  the  reasons  why  we  did 
not  succeed.  .  .  .  All  their  advice,  or  at  least  some  of 
it,  might  have  been  good  if  we  had  wanted  to  make 
money,  to  make  a  common  place  of  amusement.  Our 


160  Notes 

advisers  did  not  see  that  what  we  wanted  was  to 
create  for  Ireland  a  theatre  with  a  base  of  realism, 
with  an  apex  of  beauty.  Well,  last  summer  I  made  a 
fable  for  this  meditation,  this  emotion,  at  the  back  of 
my  mind  to  drive. 

I  pictured  to  myself,  for  I  usually  first  see  a  play 
as  a  picture,  a  young  man,  a  mere  lad,  very  sleepy  in 
the  daytime.  He  was  surrounded  by  people  kind 
and  wise,  who  lamented  over  his  rags  and  idleness 
and  assured  him  that  if  he  did  n't  get  up  early  and 
do  his  work  in  the  daytime  he  would  never  know  the 
feel  of  money  in  his  hand.  He  listens  to  all  their 
advice,  but  he  does  not  take  it,  because  he  knows  what 
they  do  not  know,  that  it  is  in  the  night  time  precisely 
he  is  filling  his  pocket,  in  the  night  when,  as  I  think,  we 
receive  gifts  from  the  unseen.  v  I  placed  him  in  the 
house  of  a  miser,  an  old  man  who  had  saved  a  store 
of  gold.  I  called  the  old  man  Darner,  from  a  folk- 
story  of  a  chandler  who  had  bought  for  a  song  the 
kegs  of  gold  the  Danes  had  covered  with  tallow  as  a 
disguise  when  they  were  driven  out  of  Ireland,  and 
who  had  been  rich  and  a  miser  ever  after.  I  did  not 
mean  this  old  man,  Darner,  to  appear  at  all.  He  was  to 
be  as  invisible  as  that  Heaven  of  which  we  are  told 
the  violent  take  it  by  force.  My  intention  at  first 
was  that  he  should  be  robbed,  but  then  I  saw  robbery 
would  take  too  much  sympathy  from  my  young  lad, 
and  I  decided  the  money  should  be  won  by  the  lesser 
sin  of  cardplaying,  but  still  behind  the  scenes.  Then 
I  thought  it  would  have  a  good  stage  effect  if  old 
Darner  could  just  walk  once  across  the  stage  in  the 


Notes  161 

background.  His  relations  might  have  come  into 
the  house  to  try  and  make  themselves  agreeable  to 
him,  and  he  would  appear  and  they  would  vanish. 
.  .  .  Darner  comes  in,  and  contrary  to  my  intention, 
he  begins  to  find  a  tongue  of  his  own.  He  has  made 
his  start  in  the  world,  and  has  more  than  a  word  to 
say.  How  that  play  will  work  out  I  cannot  be  sure, 
or  if  it  will  ever  be  finished  at  all.  But  if  ever  it  is 
I  am  quite  sure  it  will  go  as  Darner  wants,  not  as  I 
want. 

That  is  what  I  said  last  winter,  and  now  in  harvest 
time  the  play  is  all  but  out  of  my  hands.  But  as  I 
foretold,  Darner  has  taken  possession  of  it,  turning  it 
to  be  as  simple  as  a  folk-tale,  where  the  innocent  of 
the  world  confound  the  wisdom  of  the  wise.  The  idea 
with  which  I  set  out  has  not  indeed  quite  vanished, 
but  is  as  if  "extinct  and  pale;  not  darkness,  but  light 
that  has  become  dead." 

As  to  Darner's  changes  of  mood,  it  happened  a  little 
time  ago,  when  the  play  was  roughly  written,  but  on 
its  present  lines,  that  I  took  up  a  volume  of  Montaigne, 
and  found  in  it  his  justification  by  high  examples : 

"Verilie  it  is  not  want  but  rather  plentie  that 
causeth  avarice.  I  will  speake  of  mine  owne  experi- 
ence concerning  this  subject.  I  have  lived  in  three 
kinds  of  condition  since  I  came  out  of  my  infancie. 
The  first  time,  which  continued  well  nigh  twentie 
yeares,  I  have  past  it  over  as  one  who  had  no  other 
means  but  casual  without  any  certaine  maintenance 
or  regular  prescription.  My  expenses  were  so  much 


1 62  Notes 

the  more  carelessly  laid  out  and  lavishly  employed, 
by  how  much  more  they  wholly  depended  on  fortunes 
rashnesse  and  exhibition.  I  never  lived  so  well  at 
ease.  .  .  .  My  second  manner  of  life  hath  been  to 
have  monie:  which  when  I  had  once  fingred,  according 
to  my  condition  I  sought  to  hoorde  up  some  against 
a  rainy  day.  .  .  .  My  minde  was  ever  on  my  halfe- 
penny;  my  thoughts  ever  that  way.  Of  commoditie 
I  had  little  or  nothing.  .  .  .  And  after  you  are  once 
accustomed,  and  have  fixed  your  thoughts  upon  a 
heape  of  monie,  it  is  no  longer  at  your  service;  you 
dare  not  diminish  it;  it  is  a  building  which  if  you 
touch  or  take  any  part  from  it,  you  will  think  it  will 
all  fall.  And  I  should  sooner  pawne  my  clothes  or 
sell  a  horse,  with  lesse  care  and  compulsion  than  make 
a  breach  into  that  beloved  purse  which  I  kept  in 
store.  ...  I  was  some  yeares  of  the  same  humour: 
I  wot  not  what  good  Demon  did  most  profitably 
remove  me  from  it,  like  to  the  Siracusan,  and  made  me 
to  neglect  my  sparing.  ...  I  live  from  hand  to 
mouth,  from  day  to  day,  and  have  I  but  to  supplie 
my  present  and  ordinarie  needs  I  am  satisfied.  .  .  . 
And  I  singularly  gratifie  myself  this  correction  came 
upon  me  in  an  age  naturally  inclined  to  covetousnesse, 
and  that  I  am  free  from  that  folly  so  common  and 
peculiar  to  old  men,  and  the  most  ridiculous  of  all 
humane  follies.  Feraulez  who  had  passed  through 
both  fortunes  and  found  that  encrease  of  goods  was 
no  encrease  of  appetite  to  eat,  to  sleepe  or  to  embrace 
his  wife;  and  who  on  the  other  side  felt  heavily  on  his 
shoulders  the  importunitie  of  ordering  and  directing 


Notes  163 

his  Oeconomicall  affairs  as  it  doth  on  mine,  deter- 
mined with  himselfe  to  content  a  poore  young  man, 
his  faithfull  friend,  greedily  gaping  after  riches,  and 
frankly  made  him  a  present  donation  of  all  his  great 
and  excessive  riches,  always  provided  hee  should 
undertake  to  entertaine  and  find  him,  honestly  and 
in  good  sort,  as  his  guest  and  friend.  In  which 
estate  they  lived  afterwards  most  happily  and  mu- 
tually content  with  the  change  of  their  condition." 
And  so  I  hope  it  may  come  to  pass  with  the  re- 
maining years  of  Simon  and  of  Darner. 

McDONOUGH'S  WIFE 

In  my  childhood  there  was  every  year  at  my  old 
home,  Roxborough,  or,  as  it  is  called  in  Irish,  Cre- 
groostha.agreat  sheep-shearing  that  lasted  many  days. 
On  the  last  evening  there  was  always  a  dance  for  the 
shearers  and  their  helpers,  and  two  pipers  used  to 
sit  on  chairs  placed  on  a  corn-bin  to  make  music  for 
the  dance.  One  of  them  was  always  McDonough. 
He  was  the  best  of  all  the  wandering  pipers  who  went 
about  from  house  to  house.  When,  at  my  marriage, 
I  moved  from  the  barony  of  Dunkellin  to  the  neigh- 
bouring barony  of  Kiltartan,  he  came  and  played  at 
the  dance  given  to  the  tenants  in  my  honour,  and  he 
came  and  played  also  at  my  son's  coming  of  age. 
Not  long  after  that  he  died.  The  last  time  I  saw  him 
he  came  to  ask  for  a  loan  of  money  to  take  the  train 
to  Ennis,  where  there  was  some  fair  or  gathering  of 
people  going  on,  and  I  would  not  lend  to  so  old  a  friend, 


164  Notes 

but  gave  him  a  half-sovereign,  and  we  parted  with 
kindly  words.  He  was  so  great  a  piper  that  in  the 
few  years  since  his  death  myths  have  already  begun 
to  gather  around  him.  I  have  been  told  that  his 
father  was  taken  into  a  hill  of  the  Danes,  the  Tuatha 
de  Danaan,  the  ancient  invisible  race,  and  they  had 
taught  him  all  their  tunes  and  so  bewitched  his  pipes 
that  they  would  play  of  themselves  if  he  threw  them 
up  on  the  rafters.  McDonough's  pipes,  they  say, 
had  not  that  gift,  but  he  himself  could  play  those 
inspired  tunes.  Lately  I  was  told  the  story  I  have 
used  in  this  play  about  his  taking  away  fifty  sovereigns 
from  the  shearing  at  Cregroostha  and  spending  them 
at  a  village  near.  "I  said  to  him,"  said  the  old  man 
who  told  me  this,  "that  it  would  be  better  for  him 
to  have  bought  a  good  kitchen  of  bacon;  but  he  said, 
'Ah,  when  I  want  more,  I  have  but  to  squeeze  the 
pipes.'"  The  story  of  his  wife's  death  and  burial 
as  I  give  it  has  been  told  to  me  here  and  there.  That 
is  my  fable,  and  the  emotion  disclosed  by  the  story  is, 
I  think,  the  lasting  pride  of  the  artist  of  all  ages: 

"We  are  the  music  makers 
And  we  are  the  dreamers  of  dreams.  .  .  . 
We  in  the  ages  lying 
In  the  buried  past  of  the  earth 
Built  Nineveh  with  our  sighing, 
And  Babel  itself  with  our  mirth." 

I  wrote  the  little  play  while  crossing  the  Atlantic 
in  the  Cymric  last  September.     Since  it  was  written 


Notes  165 

I  have  been  told  at  Kinvara  that  "McDonough  was 
a  proud  man ;  he  never  would  go  to  a  wedding  unasked, 
and  he  never  would  play  through  a  town."  So  he  had 
laid  down  pride  for  pride's  sake,  at  that  time  of  the 
burying  of  his  wife. 

In  Galway  this  summer  one  who  was  with  him  at 
the  end  told  me  he  had  a  happy  death,  "But  he  died 
poor;  for  what  he  would  make  in  the  long  nights  he 
would  spend  through  the  summer  days."  And  then 
she  said,  "Himself  and  Reilly  and  three  other  fine 
pipers  died  within  that  year.  There  was  surely  a 
feast  of  music  going  on  in  some  other  place." 

Dates  of  production  of  plays. 

THE  BOGIE  MEN  was  first  produced  at  the  Court 
Theatre,  London,  July  8,  1912,  with  the  following 
cast: 

Taig  O'Harragha  .  .  .  J.  M.  KERRIGAN 
Darby  Melody  .  .  .  .  J.  A.  O'RouRKE 

THE  FULL  MOON  was  first  produced  at  the  Abbey 
Theatre,  Dublin,  on  November  10,  1910,  with  the 
following  cast: 

Shawn  Early      .    .         .         .  J.  O'RouRKE 

Bartley  Fallon  .  .  .  ARTHUR  SINCLAIR 
Peter  Tannian  .  .  .  SIDNEY  MORGAN 
Hyacinth  Halvey  .  .  .  FRED.  O' DONOVAN 
Mrs.  Broderick  ....  SARA  ALLGOOD 
Miss  Joyce  ....  EILEEN  O'DOHERTY 
Cracked  Mary  .  .  .  MAIRE  O'NEILL 

Davideen J.  M.  KERRIGAN 


1 66  Notes 

COATS  was  first  produced  at  the  Abbey  Theatre, 
Dublin,  December,  1910,  with  the  following  cast: 

Mineog  ....  ARTHUR  SINCLAIR 
Hazel  .  .  .  .  .  J.  M.  KERRIGAN 
John  .....  J.  A.  O'RouRKE 

DAMER'S  GOLD  was  first  produced  at  the  Abbey 
Theatre  November  21,  1912,  with  the  following  cast: 

Delia  Hessian  ....  SARA  ALLGOOD 
Staffy  Kirwan  .  .  .  SIDNEY  MORGAN 

Ralph  Hessian       .         .         .  J.  M.  KERRIGAN 

Darner  ....  ARTHUR  SINCLAIR 
Simon  Niland  .  .  .  .  A.  WRIGHT 

MCDONOUGH  's  WIFE  has  not  yet  been  produced  by 
the  Abbey  Company. 


Jl  Selection  from  the 
Catalogue  of 

C.  P.  PUTNAM'S  SONS 


Complete  Catalogue  sent 
on  application 


Irish  Folk-History  Plays 

By 
LADY  GREGORY 

First  Series.    The  Tragedies 
GRAMA  KINCORA  DERVORGILLA 

Second  Series.    The  Tragic  Comedies 

THE  CANAVANS  THE  WHITE  COCKADE 

THE  DELIVERER 
2  vols.    Each,  fl.so  net.    By  mail,  $1.65 

Lady  Gregory  has  preferred  going  for  her  material  to  the  tra- 
ditional folk-history  rather  than  to  the  authorized  printed  versions, 
and  she  has  been  able,  in  so  doing,  to  make  her  plays  more  living. 
One  of  these,  K^incora,  telling  of  Brian  Boru,  who  reigned  in  the 
year  1000,  evoked  such  keen  local  interest  that  an  old  farmer 
travelled  from  the  neighborhood  of  Kincora  to  see  it  acted  in 
Dublin. 

The  story  of  Crania,  on  which  Lady  Gregory  has  founded  one 
of  these  plays,  was  taken  entirely  from  tradition.  Grania  was  a 
beautiful  young  woman  and  was  to  have  been  married  to  Finn,  the 
great  leader  of  the  Fenians;  but  before  the  marriage,  she  went 
away  from  the  bridegroom  with  his  handsome  young  kinsman, 
Diarmuid.  After  many  years,  when  Diarmuid  had  died  (and  Finn 
had  a  hand  in  his  death),  she  went  back  to  Finn  and  became  his 
queen. 

Another  of  Lady  Gregory's  plays,  The  Canavans  dealt  with 
the  stormy  times  of  Queen  Elizabeth,  whose  memory  is  a  horror  in 
Ireland  second  only  to  that  of  Cromwell. 

The  White  Cockade  is  founded  on  a  tradition  of  King  James 
having  escaped  from  Ireland  after  the  battle  of  the  Boyne  in  a  wine 
barrel. 

The  choice  of  folk  history  rather  than  written  history  gives  a 
freshness  of  treatment  and  elasticity  of  material  which  made  the 
late  J.  M.  Synge  say  that  "  Lady  Gregory's  method  had  brought 
back  the  possibility  of  writing  historic  plays." 

All  these  plays,  except  Grania,  which  has  not  yet  been  staged, 
have  been  very  successfully  performed  in  Ireland.  They  are  written 
in  the  dialect  of  Kiltartan,  which  had  already  become  familiar  to 
readers  of  Lady  Gregory's  books. 


G.  P.  PUTNAM'S  SONS 

NEW  YORK  LONDON 


Irish  Folk-History  Plays 

By 
LADY  GREGORY 


Lady  Gregory's  plays  "  never  fail  to  do  the  one  thing 
which  we  all  demand  from  a  play,  which  is  not,  as  stupid 
people  say,  to  amuse  us  (though  Lady  Gregory's  plays 
are  extremely  amusing) ,  but  to  take  us  out  of  ourselves 
and  out  of  London  and  out  of  the  stuffy  theater  while  we 
are  listening  to  them." — George  Bernard  Shaw. 

"Among  the  three  great  exponents  of  the  modern  Celtic 
movement  in  Ireland,  Lady  Gregory  holds  an  unusual 
place.  It  is  she  from  whom  came  the  chief  historical  im- 
pulse which  resulted  in  the  re-creation  for  the  present 
generation  of  the  elemental  poetry  of  early  Ireland,  its 
wild  disorders,  its  loves  and  hates — all  the  passionate 
light  and  shadow  of  that  fierce  and  splendid  race. 
.  .  .  Should  be  read  by  all  those  who  are  interested  in 
this  most  unusual  literary  movement  of  modern  times. 
Indeed  they  furnish  a  necessary  complement  to  the  over- 
fanciful  pictures  drawn  by  Mr.  Yeats  of  the  dim  morning 
of  Celtic  Song." — Springfield  Republican. 

"Lady  Gregory  has  kept  alive  the  tradition  of  Ireland 
as  a  laughing  country.  She  surpasses  the  others  in  the 
quality  of  her  comedy,  however,  not  that  she  is  more 
comic,  but  that  she  is  more  comprehensively  true  to  life. 
Lady  Gregory  has  gone  to  reality  as  to  a  cave  of  treasure. 
She  is  one  of  the  discoverers  of  Ireland.  Her  genius,  like 
Synge's,  seems  to  have  opened  its  eyes  one  day  and  seen 
spread  below  it  the  immense  sea  of  Irish  common  speech, 
with  its  color,  its  laughter,  and  its  music." — Nation. 


G.  P.  PUTNAM'S  SONS 

NEW  YORK  LONDON 


Dramas  of  Importance 

Plays 

The  Silver  Box— Joy— Strife 

By  John  Galsworthy 

Author  of  "  The  Country  House,"  etc. 

Crown  8vo.     $1 .33  net 

"  By  common  consent,  London  has  witnessed  this  week 
a  play  of  serious  importance,  not  approached  by  any  other 
book  or  drama  of  the  season,  John  Galsworthy's  'The 
Strife.'  It  is  regarded  not  merely  as  a  remarkable  social 
document  of  significance,  but  as  a  creation  which,  while  of 
the  most  modern  realism,  is  yet  classic  in  its  pronounced 
art  and  exalted  philosophy.  The  play  shows  the  types  of 
the  strongest  men  as  victims  of  comical  events  and  of 
weaker  men.  It  will^be  produced  in  America,  where,  on 
account  of  its  realistic  treatment  of  the  subject  of  labor 
union,  it  is  sure  to  be  a  sensation." — Special  cable  dispatch 
to  N.  Y.  Times. 

The  Nun  of  Kent 

By  Grace  Denio  Litchfield 

Author  of  "  Baldur  the  Beautiful,"  etc. 
Crown  8 vo .     $  1  .OO  net 

"  In  this  drama  the  pure  essentials  of  dramatic  writing 
are  rarely  blended.  ...  The  foundation  for  the  stirring 
play  is  a  pathetic  episode  given  in  Froude's  Henry  VIII. . . . 

"  The  lines  of  the  poem,  while  full  of  thought,  are  also 
characterized  by  fervor  and  beauty.  The  strength  of  the 
play  is  centred  upon  a  few  characters.  .  .  .  '  The  Nun 
of  Kent'  may  be  described  as  a  fascinating  dramatic 
story." — Baltimore  News. 

Yzdra 

A  Tragedy  in  Three  Acts 

By  Louis  V.  Ledoux 

Crown  8 vo.      Cloth.      $1.23  net 

"  There  are  both  grace  and  strength  in  this  drama  and 
it  also  possesses  the  movement  and  spirit  needed  for  pres- 
entation upon  the  stage.  Some  of  the  figures  used  are 
striking  and  beautiful,  quite  free  from  excess,  and  some- 
times almost  austere^  in  their  restraint.  The  characters 
are  clearly  individualized  and  a  just  balance  is  preserved 
in  the  action." — The  Outlook,  New  York. 

New  York    G.  P.  Putnam's  Sons    London 


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